An Eternity of Solitude
by MashPotatoeSquishBanana
Summary: An exiled noble girl. A poor peasant boy. All that stands between them is the brick of her prison wall. That is, until a certain red- headed village girl comes into the boy's life... Will Annabeth and Percy ever pursue a romantic relationship? Or are they doomed to spend the rest of eternity separated by age- old grudges, and a war that should never have happened?
1. Tower Girl

**Hey. This is my first FanFiction Story. I hope you guys will put up with me, and that I'll at least get two reviews for each chapter. I will try to update at least once a week, and if you're lucky, twice to thrice. I already have the second chapter written, but I'll only upload it if I get some reviews for this chapter. So, ENJOY!**

**By the way, I just have to say that this idea was based off the book: 'Book of a Thousand Days' by Shannon Hale. **

**Title: An Eternity of Solitude**

**Main Characters: Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson**

**Status: In Progress- Chaptered Story**

**Oh, I totally forgot to put a disclaimer the first time I posted this. So, disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson's world. **

**A couple of days after I posted this story, I found a story similar to mine. I'd like to apologise to the author of that story, and say that I did not take your idea- we just must think alike. **

**So, enjoy. :)**

**Chapter 1:**

**6 Long Years**

The blond haired girl stared out of the high window with a longing that words couldn't describe; her sunken, faded grey eyes skimmed over everything with a hungry desperation. Her skeletal fingers clutched at the flimsy faded grey curtains with a strength that her small, skinny body couldn't have possibly possessed.

Once upon a time, this faded bag of bones with the long, limp and colourless platinum blond hair, the pale and shadowed skin that was drawn tightly over her skeleton, and hunched over figure had been a gorgeous, vibrant girl who always had a joke to crack, or a way to break the ice in an awkward situation- a girl who was in love with life itself; a girl who would smile every minute of every day and always had something optimistic to say.

Now if you asked her what tomorrow would bring, she would say, "Nothing but darkness, misery and longing for something that will never be mine. Someone once said, 'What you put into life, you will always get out of life'. Well, that's a stupid quote. No matter how much I put into life, I will never get anything back because the Fates are cruel, and life is against me. Now don't disturb me again or I'll bite your head off."

A real heart- warming motto, right?

But she wasn't bitter without reason. At age twelve, her father, Lord Frederick, who was King Zeus' top adviser in Court, had told her these exact words: "War is coming, my daughter. The treaty between King Zeus and King Kronos has been broken. There is one option left, and if you do not agree, our two separate nations will be thrown into a havoc that will take years to undo. I know I'm asking a lot, my daughter, and at such a young age, but think carefully before you answer." Annabeth's father had knelt before her, pleading with his eyes to make her understand something. "My Annabeth, you are the only eligible lady born of nobility left in this land. I am asking you- no, our _nation _is asking you to accept a marriage proposal from Lord Luke Castellan of Othrys, the land in which Kronos rules. You are the key to peace! The king currently doesn't have an heir, and I, being his closest advisor, offered my daughter as the peace keeper." Annabeth remembered every word with clarity and precision.

But her memories stopped there. She knew that she had had some insolent and unwise reply. Her father had immediately sent her to her room. And after a few weeks, Othrys and Olympus, King Zeus' land, were at war. And about that time, Annabeth had been ordered to choose a maid, pack up all her belongings and that the General of the Royal Guard, Octavian, would escort her to her new pris- _home._

For six long years, she had been locked in the tower, hidden from the world by her father, a ruthless and merciless man who would do anything for his nation, which was honourable in principle, but did that make it right to lock his daughter in a tower until Zeus- knows- when?

So Annabeth was doomed to eternity in a boring little round room, as her father had decreed that she stay locked in the tower until a man of sharp wit and intelligence could rescue her by his own means. Lord Frederick had promised a hefty reward and an acknowledgment from King Zeus to the man who could rescue his daughter, and many men had rushed to take on the task. But not one man had succeeded thus far. And so the years had dragged by. Slowly people had forgotten about her. Lord Frederick's mysterious daughter. Over time, to those who remembered her, she became known as The Forgotten One.

A bird chirped outside her imprisonment. The Lady leaned out the high window for a better view of the outside world. A tear dropped from her eye. She listened to the _plop _as the salty drop of water hit a pebble on the ground. The tears came after that, one after the other. It was like a salty tidal wave. It was uncontrollable. For six long years, she had been locked in a tower with only a maid for company. In six long years, she hadn't shed a single tear. And now they came. She cried for many hours, for once relishing in her endless solitude.

"Milady?" Thalia the maid asked timidly after a while. Usually, the two addressed each other not quite so formally, but it was in times like this that Thalia was reminded that her friend Annabeth was actually royalty. It was best to play by the rules when the Lady Annabeth was in a bad mood.

"What?" Annabeth snapped, wincing at the croak in her voice. It was obvious she had been crying.

Thalia wasn't stupid; she knew that her Lady just wanted to be left alone. "It's nothing, milady. Just the weekly food supply has been delivered. I just thought you might want to know, in case you wanted me to make you a snack." Thalia whirled on her heel, but just before she walked out the door, she turned to look at Annabeth with sympathetic eyes. "You know, Annabeth," she said. "I'm always here if you want to talk." Annabeth just turned away, the tears still flowing and her emotions showing clearly through the wall in which she had built around herself. She was glad that Thalia hadn't pushed her into talking.

Thalia stalked out of the room, a heavy feeling in her heart. However bad she sometimes thought she had it, having been imprisoned in the tower with Annabeth, she knew Annabeth had it ten times worse- her own _father _had ordered her exile from the Court.

After Thalia left, Annabeth sighed and furiously wiped away any evidence of the little pity- party she just threw herself. Nobody would ever come to her rescue- she knew that long ago. So why should it start to matter now?

**So, what did you think? Should I continue? I'll only upload if I get some reviews. Constructive criticism welcomed. :)**


	2. Peasant Boy

**People actually like my work? I should've uploaded these ages ago! I've had about fifty ideas sitting in my iPod notes for about two months now.  
Also, does anyone know the name of the fourth book of HOO? I DOOOO!  
House of Hades, here we come! Boo yaa baby.**

**And I just want to give a HUUUGE thanks to this wonderful person:**

Ø **Hambakhachana- **Thanks soooo much for being the first to review.

**Chapter 2:**

**Peasant Boy**

The black haired, green eyed boy grunted as he pushed the heavy plough through the wheat fields. Normally Porkpie the Ox would be pulling it, but unfortunately, Porkpie was out of commission ever since the boy had run over the ox's foot with the plough, when he was still learning how to use it.

Now he considered himself an expert as he manoeuvred the heavy farm tool between crops. The peasant boy had become the man of the family at age twelve, when his father had died in a war that should never had happened, between King Zeus and King Kronos. Poseidon had fought bravely for Zeus' cause, but was killed by treachery, unfortunately leaving a widowed Sally Jackson and a fatherless Percy Jackson.

For six years now, Percy had looked after the family farm, his aging mother and their few valuables, mainly sentimental values such as his father's sword, Riptide, which had been returned to the Jacksons along with the dreadful life- changing letter, Sally's wedding band and engagement stamp, documents such as Percy's birth certificate, the ancient newspaper with an article about Sally's parents' deaths in a bandit attack, and their few precious farm animals that included Porkpie the ox, Blackjack the pure black stallion that was Percy's pride and joy, Guido the donkey, Rainbow the pig, which was named by Percy's younger brother Tyson, who was killed by bandits, Mrs O' Leary the huge black mastiff, Percy's cattle dog, and a few random sheep and cattle that didn't have names now that there was nobody left who had the time to think of names for farm animals. And then there was Bessie, the strange cow that made hissing noise like a serpent. Percy had wanted to sell the scary cow/ snake hybrid to the Meat Slakers, but Tyson had insisted on keeping Bessie safe. He said that Bessie wasn't safe in the outside world. Something about entrails… And besides, the cow was so devoted and loyal that Percy couldn't bring himself to dispose of it himself. So it stayed, and he eventually became fond of it.

Percy tried not to think of Tyson too much. Though people always reassured him that Tyson's death wasn't his fault, he still remembered that day vividly. People from Kronos' army had snuck up on the pair of peasant boys like a bunch of cowards. Percy hadn't reacted quickly enough. Only when there was an arrow through Tyson's right eye had Percy reached for Riptide, which he always wore in a scabbard on his belt, and killed them all. He had had to lug Tyson's literally dead weight all the way to the Jackson house, which was over ten kilometres away. By the time he had gotten home, Tyson's shirt was ripped, there was mud all the way down his chest, and his one calf brown eye, that was bloodshot from the arrow, was already starting to turn a milky white (Tyson had lost one eye when he had been working in the forges one day, and he had gotten caught in a fire. He had escaped with only first degree burns, but had somehow lost an eye.)

Percy wasn't watching where he was going with the plough, and accidentally swiped a whole row of carrots. He swore under his breath. Mother wouldn't be too happy.

After about another half hour of ploughing the fields, Percy went to feed all the animals, then he cleaned the stables. For the second time that day. Sometimes he thought those animals pooped extra hard and fast just to annoy him. As he was scrutinizing the property for anything suspicious, as he did every night, Percy noticed that in some places the fence was sagging, but it was getting dark, so he decided that he would fix it tomorrow.

For Percy, sunset was his favourite time of the day. Training time. Just an hour of alone time with Riptide. Every night he learned another one of the sword's many secrets. He wished he could train with a real master, like Lord Ares, who was famous throughout the land for his unbeatable swordsmanship, his undying fury with the sword and unmistakable skill with a weapon.

But until a miracle like that happened, Percy was stuck training by himself on old stacks of hay, working out his own patterns and routines.

Three times a week, Percy walked the five kilometres to town for a full eight hours of learning. On his mother's orders, of course. As if Percy would willingly enter that hell hole. The only things that made school bearable was Percy's favourite teacher, Mr Brunner, as he preferred to be called, and Percy's best friend Grover Underwood. Percy also had a small crush on a cute girl by the name of Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Rachel was also one of his best friends, and he hated himself for crushing on her, when a relationship would make their friendship awkward.

The next day, Wednesday, was one of those 'dreaded days'. Percy gulped. Maybe he could pretend he was sick. Maybe he could- _Rachel. _He thought. _Grover. Chiron. If you don't go to school, you don't get to see your friends. _The distraught boy sighed, ran his fingers through his messy black hair. Then he felt another pair of fingers run through his hair.

"Mum," he complained. "I'm not a kid anymore."

"You'll always be my baby." Sally said, hugging her son close.

"_Mum!_" Percy's voice was muffled by Sally's shirt.

"Percy." Sally smiled fondly at her son who looked so much like his father. She ran her fingers through his hair again. "You need a hair cut," she suddenly said.

"What? No!" Percy backed away when his mother brought her little handy scissors out from her sewing kit. "I like my hair just the way it is!"

"Percy. I'm your mother. I decide what length your hair is."

"Mum! I'm eighteen years old! Heck, some guys are getting _married _at my age! This guy called Travis Stoll from school proposed to his girlfriend Katie Gardner the other day!"

Sally advanced with the scissors, trying to hide her smile.

Percy shouldered his backpack and ran out the door, yelling vehement protests all the way down the driveway. Sally smiled and shook her head. Percy had never been in such a rush to get to school before.

**Reviews welcome at all times. Morning, midday, midnight- heck, who cares? I love each and every one of yous who love my stories.**


	3. Liar Liar You're On Fire

**Hola, peoples. Anyone miss me? I know I missed you.**

**Thank you to ****EVERYBODY**** who reviewed. I love you all. I have to admit, you all were making me so happy every time you reviewed that I was checking every ten minutes to see if I got another review.**

**So, I was just rereading Chapter 2: Peasant Boy, and realised that the third paragraph is actually one huge, long sentence. Woops. My bad.**

**But I can't be bothered going to change it, even if my English teacher would scold me on having the world's worst run- off sentence.**

**Oh well. Who cares, really?**

**And also, in Peasant Boy, I added in a bit of Prachel. I know some people might hate me for that, and I hate myself for it, and I know I promised Percabeth, but you'll have to bear with me for a few chapters. This is a Percabeth story and Percabeth rules forever. **

**Never fear, Percabeth will live! (in later chapters).**

**Please read on and ignore my ranting about run- off sentences and Percabeth.**

**Chapter 3:**

**Liar Liar You're On Fire**

When Annabeth was feeling miserable, she would find refuge in the attic. There were thousands of dusty old scrolls. Annabeth liked to suck up knowledge like a vacuum cleaner sucks up dust. Lighting a candle to illuminate the attic, Annabeth settled down with her latest find- a scroll on the architecture of the Parthenon in Greece. Of course she already knew all the facts, but it was fun to compare her own knowledge to- she squinted at the author's name, trying to decipher it through her blurry eye sight- to Daedalus Quintus' knowledge.

"Annabeth!" Thalia yelled, ripping Annabeth from her peaceful reading time.

"What?" she called back, annoyance lacing her voice.

Thumps coming up the stairs. Thalia appeared at the doorway, coughing and gasping. "Geez, how can you _breathe _up here? It's so dusty I can barely see three feet in front of me!"

Annabeth didn't say anything in response.

"Anyway, dinners prepared. Come and get it when you're ready. And don't forget to extiunguish the candle." Thalia disappeared again, coughing and retching and cursing about the stale air.

Annabeth sighed and put down her scroll. She really didn't want to go down there and see the open window, feel the cool breeze wash over her, just reminding her of something that was always there but just out of her reach.

But she knew that Thalia would keep on bugging her until she came down. She stood up to stretch, and was making her way down the staircase when a loud crash echoed through the old building.

* * *

She sprinted down the staircase, trying not to trip over her too long skirt. That was a project she and Thalia would have to work on. Cut all of Annabeth's skirts and sew them to make trousers. Her father had basically disowned her, so she didn't have to be a Lady anymore, right? Didn't have to be elegant, polite, presentable at all times? Didn't have to wear a skirt every minute of every bloody day?

The answer to that was a loud and proud "NO!". Annabeth was free of her royal duties. She was no longer a Lady. If she ever escaped the isolation of the tower, she would begin a new life on a farm, raise a family with a peasant husband, and Thalia would no longer be her maid, but her friend.

Annabeth smiled just as she reached the bottom of the spiral staircase.

"Thalia!" she huffed, gasping for breath. She had become so unfit, sitting around all day with nothing to do but stare out a window. Annabeth spotted Thalia at the window. "What was that noise?"

Thalia turned. At her feet was a wooden box of some sort. "Oh, that? I dropped an egg out of the window."

Annabeth stood, arms crossed, and looked with distaste at Thalia. "Two people can't live together for six years with no escape from the other and expect to be able to lie and get away with it." Obvious disbelief was laced through her voice.

Thalia shrugged. "Thought I'd give it a shot. Nothing slips past you, does it?"

Annabeth shrugged. The two sat down at the table to eat.

* * *

Annabeth picked at her meal of salted beef jerky and raw carrots. She wasn't hungry in the slightest.

Perhaps it was the cool air that smelt of coming rain that was wafting through the open window. Annabeth's heart ached with longing for freedom. To feel the grass beneath her bare feet again, to swim in a flowing creek and be able to climb trees and pick macadamia nuts…

"Annabeth." Thalia said in her steeliest voice. "Eat. Now. Or I'll shove it down your throat."

Annabeth glared at her maid, but Thalia didn't back down. That's why Annabeth had chosen Thalia to come with her into the tower. Any of the other maids would have crumpled by now. But Thalia was strong- she was Annabeth's best friend.

"Not hungry." Annabeth sulked, crossing her arms.

"Gods, stop acting like a three year old! You're eighteen, Annabeth! Act your age!" Thalia shoved her chair back from the table and stomped over to Annabeth. She stabbed a piece of carrot with her fork and pried open Annabeth's mouth with her fingers.

Before the carrot could enter her oral cavity, Annabeth pushed Thalia away and glared at her. "Don't, Thalia. I said I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. If you don't eat, you will die. And if you die, I will be left alone up here forever, and I'll go insane and probably end up committing suicide. So eat, Annabeth. Or we'll both end up dying."

Annabeth stood up abruptly. "What's the point in living, anyway? This isn't a life," Annabeth gestured wildly around the room. "We're both just wasting away up here, not being of use to the world. Sometimes I think it would be easier to just end it all. End my misery. It's not like anybody would care," she laughed bitterly.

Thalia's icy expression softened a tad. "I would care. If you died, I wouldn't have anything to live for either, you know. Why do you think _I'm _still alive?"

"Because there's nothing up here that could be used for a suicide."

A wide grin spread across Thalia's face. For a second, Annabeth could remember what this girl used to look like, six years ago, when she had been fifteen. She looked happy. Alive.

"That's where you're wrong, Annabeth. See, you asked about that crash. Now, I wouldn't usually admit this, but I dropped something. And it wasn't an egg out the window."

"I can't believe you thought I would actually fall for that."

"Yeah, I always knew you weren't stupid. But anyway," Thalia bent down and picked up the box. "Guess what came with the weekly food supply?" Thalia asked, straightening up.

"Tell me."

"Somebody_" Just then Thalia became rigid. She tilted her head to the side and sniffed. "Is that- is that _smoke _I smell? Annabeth_" Thalia glared at Annabeth. "Annabeth, did you leave a candle burning in the attic?" Annabeth paled. Her long, flowy skirt must have caught the candle without her knowing.

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "I was reading."

Thalia glared at Annabeth frostily. "And did you, by any chance, extinguish that candle when you came down here, like I went out of my way to tell you to?"

Annabeth didn't say anything. As if they had some sort of telepathic agreement, both moved in sync with the other as they sprinted up the stairs to the attic, where the smoke was thickest.

Annabeth was choking, both from the thick, black smoke and the most physical exertion her body had endured in six years.

Thalia screamed something unintelligible and started hitting the wild flames with her sandal, which soon went up in flames itself. Annabeth collapsed to the ground, coughing so violently she thought she would spew up her brains.

Thalia ran downstairs, presumably to get a bucket of water, and Annabeth lay on the ground, retching and crying and screaming, her dress on fire, her hair on fire; her whole body on fire. And as she lay there, she accepted the fact that she would never get out of this tower. She accepted her death in this hot, smoke- filled, isolated, prison- like, claustrophobic room.

_I love you, Thalia. _She thought. _I hope you get out of here alive. Please say something nice about me at my funeral. See you at the other end. _

She closed her eyes and went to sleep.

**Oh, oh, was that a CLIFFY? I'll update as soon as I can, and thank you all for being so wonderful. Don't forget to leave your opinion about my work! Constructive criticism welcomed, though I don't support flames. **

**Can anyone guess which PJO character has the same name as me? If you go on my profile, it might give you a hint. :)**

**You know, I think I might update every second to third day. Once a week is a bit harsh, isn't it? Even I couldn't wait that long.**

**So, in short, if I don't update ****AT LEAST**** once a week, you know I'm dead.**

**MashPotatoe Out :D**


	4. Three Strikes

**I'm really sorry about having to change all the chapters, I was just really unhappy with the story the way it was. Also, to all of you whom I responded to your reviews, I can't seem to copy and paste from the previous Chapter 4.**

**So, sorry about that. Please enjoy.**

**Chapter 4:**

**Three Strikes and You're Gone**

Percy's day had been uneventful so far. He had been so bored that he had fallen asleep in mathematics, and when his teacher had caught him with his mouth half open and (according to Rachel) drool coming out, he had gotten the belt across his palms. Now he couldn't write properly, and if Mrs Wadre, his Foreign Languages teacher, found out that his writing was even _messier _than usual, he would get the belt across his back! His heart had sped up when he noticed a certain emerald eyed red head glancing at him in sympathy.

Minutes ticked by like hours. Percy's knees bounced in anticipation. He was hungry. He was bored out of his mind. His hands were throbbing.

He was anxious to talk freely with Rachel and Grover.

* * *

Lunch arrived after three hours of mental torture. His hands were starting to swell, and the blood was clotting.

Grover took him to the bathroom to wash and bandage his welted palms.

When they were done, they fetched their packed lunches and made their way to where Rachel was sitting, all alone.

"Hey." Rachel said in a voice that was way too cheery.

"What happened?" Percy asked immediately.

Grover sat on the bench and immediately started chowing down on his lettuce and celery wrap. "Eng ont mybe," he said through a mouthful of food.

Percy cocked his head at Grover in confusion. "Say, what?"

Grover swallowed with an audible '_gulp_'. "I said, '_And don't lie_', to Rachel." The two boys turned to look expectantly at the agitated redhead.

Rachel seemed to shrink under their gazes. "Look, I just_"

The headmaster started smashing his wooden mallet into gong that was located above the threesome's heads. Percy winced and clutched his ears.

Grover paled. "Lunch is over already? I swear, it's getting shorter every day. So, detention with Mr JoJo now. Yippee. If I'm not at Latin, then assume I'm dead." He bounded off, not wanting to be late to his detention. Percy didn't even want to know what ridiculous thing Mr JoJo had accused Grover of today- for some reason, the ageing Bio teacher just had an aversion to Percy's curly haired best male friend.

"Look, Percy," Rachel said, tucking a stray red curl behind her ear. "I appreciate your concern, but it's nothing, really."

Percy raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing her.

Rachel raised her chin defiantly, and though she was about half a head shorter than him, he still backed down.

"That's better," she murmured. Percy flushed as he realised how close they were. Their hands were brushing. Their noses touched. Rachel's warm breath tickled Percy's face. He leaned in, and-

The second gong strike sounded. Percy and Rachel jumped apart, faces flaming. Rachel gave a little awkward wave before hurrying away, head down.

Percy was still rooted to the same spot. His heart was racing. Palms sweaty, knees weak, arms heavy. Bile had arisen in his throat and he swallowed sharply.

If that gong hadn't sounded… what would have happened?

Well, he wasn't stupid. He knew what would have happened.

Would he really have… would Rachel have…

Percy shook his head, collected his notepad and charcoal sticks, and made his way to his next class.

* * *

Percy was halfway through Latin when it happened, which was unfortunate, because Latin happened to be Percy's favourite class as Mr Chiron Brunner taught it.

Percy had been on a good roll, answering the questions on the pop quiz with ease, which was rare in academic areas for him.

Then the gong was struck. It wasn't unusual for the gong to be struck during class. It just meant trivial things like bandits were on the school property, or a feral animal had breached the fence lines. Percy continued his work.

The gong was struck again.

Percy frowned. Was this the time when the class was supposed to be crawling under their rough wooden desks and pretending they weren't there? Mr Brunner hadn't said so. Percy touched the tip of his charcoal stick to the papyrus paper and-

And when the ear- piercing sound reverberated throughout the whole school a third time, he knew for certain that something was wrong.

Mr Brunner wheeled to the front of the class in his wheelchair (both his legs had been amputated after he had escaped a wild fire) and said in a calm voice, "Please will you lay down your pencils and make your way to the Arena. There, we will be informed of the matter." When the class immediately started chatting excitedly, drowning out Mr Brunner's gentle voice, the usually quiet teacher yelled, "In an orderly fashion!"

Percy put down his pencil, stood up and was herded along by the crowd of eager teenagers.

He tried to find Rachel in the mob, or even Grover, but all he could see was his black hair that wouldn't stay out of his eyes. Maybe he should take up his mum's offer of a haircut.

When Percy's class arrived at the Arena, an emergency meeting place where the tiny village often had gatherings, the mayor was already speaking,

"-gather a party of men to extinguish the flames_" the rest of his words were drowned out by the new crowd of chattering people who had arrived.

Percy was left stumped. What flames?

Just then a breeze blew through the Arena. It seemed to carry an evil essence. Even through all the chatter of fellow visitors, Percy thought he heard a girl's screams. He shivered.

He spotted Rachel being jostled violently by the surging crowds.

Just as he was shoving through clusters of people to reach her, he was yanked back by his collar. He instinctively swung his fist out behind him in a wild strike. Percy's hand was lost in a meaty fist that had closed over his.

A man's throaty chuckling met his ears. "Percy, calm down, buddy. It's just me."

Percy immediately stopped fighting. He grinned and Beckendorf released his collar. "Hey, man. What's going on?" Percy turned to see Beckendorf standing at the head of a group of tough looking men. People had parted to make way for the group.

"Care to join the party?" Beckendorf asked, gesturing to his group.

_-gather a party to extinguish the flames-_

"Since you're so good with water." This was said in a mock ridiculing tone. Beckendorf had seen Percy when he had a bucket of water in his hands. The guy was downright unbeatable. Percy himself was unsure of how water enhanced his abilities, but he knew it had something to do with his dad being blessed by a water nymph. Or something.

Percy smiled hugely, glad that he had been included. "Wouldn't miss it."

Percy was dragged off by one of Beckendorf's mates, every eye on them as they set off for the burning building.

* * *

Percy never felt more alive than when he was sitting astride Blackjack, the stallion galloping at full stride, the horse's mane blowing in his face, the wind messing his hair.

Blackjack soon overtook Rodrick, the slowest of the band. He overtook everyone excepting Beckendorf. It was considered disrespectful to overtake the leader.

Another horse muzzled its way up to Blackjack's long stride. "Hey, Perce!" The man on the horse yelled, his voice fighting against the wind that threatened to drown it out. Percy at first didn't recognide the guy, but then it clicked.

"Hey, Travis! How ya been! How's Katie?" Percy was nearly screaming so that Travis would hear him.

"Never been better!"

On the back of Travis's horse was a black haired, slight woman perhaps 21 years old. Percy assumed she must be Travis's mysterious fiancé, Katie Gardner.

Percy soon could smell the stench of burning materials. The fire was bad.

The air was thick and choking with smog.

Percy couldn't even see the source of the smoke. His vision was corrupted by curling ribbons of the grey, foggy substance.

Travis was now in front of Percy in line, the black haired woman hanging on tightly to him.

"Single file!" Beckendorf shouted from somewhere up ahead. The men and Percy tried hard to stay as one line. They had been trotting carefully through the thick smoke for about five minutes in deadly silence when Beckendorf halted so suddenly that Travis was forced to stop abruptly, therefore Blackjack rammed straight into the horse's rear.

Percy's pure black stallion snorted with contempt.

"Oi, Beck, what's that for?" Killian called up in his uneducated drawl.

Beckendorf paused before saying quietly, "I- I think-" He stopped, then continued, "I'm pretty sure I heard something."

Nobody answered. Then Percy said, "We must be getting close, then."

"It's only a little further," the black haired girl riding tandem with Travis piped up. She had a strange accent, and spoke with hesitation, as if English was a second language for her.

The party trotted on, cautiously. This was unknown turf. Never before seen, travelled.

They were just following the tendrils of smoke that continued to hold the men in their warm, suffocating embrace; curling, slithering over their faces like that of a snake.

Percy shivered involuntarily.

Another couple of minutes, and Percy could make out a large, looming shadow.

Was that the building on fire? It seemed so, as the smoke became thicker all at once, as if he had stepped through a barrier and suddenly the air became denser.

Percy suddenly became aware of a different sound. Like keening, except… it sounded so heartbroken that Percy wanted to suddenly lie down, curl into a ball, and sob his heart out; he wanted to cry for Tyson, for his dad, for his poor mother who tried so hard to be the mother that Percy needed; but most of all, he wanted to cry for himself. Why? He didn't know. Maybe he would never know.

And maybe he wouldn't be able to help himself, but perhaps he could help this suffering person who was trapped in the burning building.

Percy jumped off his horse and joined the group huddle. He caught the girl's eyes as she stood just slightly outside the group of men. Her eyes pierced him right through, held so much sadness that his miserable feeling returned. Tears came to his eyes. _Tyson. _

_Man up, Percy, _he thought to himself.

"Right, team," Beckendorf said with authority. One of the men dragged the strange girl into the huddle. "How will we proceed from here?"

**Sorry about the cliffy- not!**

**Hehe.**

**Until next time, fans.**


	5. Nicknames and New Sights

**Hey, did anyone reread the story? I made some vital changes to it. If you're unsure, please reread.**

**Oh, in response to **belated eloquence's **review- I'm sorry about the underscores, if they are annoying you, but for some reason, if I use the dash to abruptly end the sentence, the speech mark that would close the sentence is switched back to '66' mode, instead of '99'. So I use underscores instead. :)**

**Feel free to start reading any time soon :D**

**Chapter 5:**

**Nicknames and New Sights**

Annabeth woke up gasping. She must have blacked out from smoke inhalation.

She was in the room below the attic- the one with the dinner table and the window.

Even with a cool breeze blowing through the room, the smoke was still thick. Annabeth sat up, feeling slightly woozy. Where was Thalia?

All she could see were curling tendrils of smog, drifting through the window. Some insignificant part of her mind wondered how the smoke already in the room could get out if there was only one window and the breeze was drifting _through _that window. Eventually, all the oxygen would be sucked out and she would still be trapped, breathing in toxic smoke fumes.

Annabeth couldn't move very far before she collapsed, retching, her head feeling as if it would explode.

"Thalia!" she called, but her voice was just a dry whisper. Her throat felt like sand paper. "Thalia!" she tried again, to no avail. Her voice was temporarily disabled.

Annabeth lay on the floor, paralysed, mute. Tears started to run down her face.

Her finger twitched. Her breathing hitched. And she blacked out again.

Thalia was free for the first time in six years. She could have run, and finally been free of her terrible prison. But she couldn't leave Annabeth. Thalia wasn't stupid- she knew that with only one window in the tower, the air wouldn't circulate properly. The smoke, being the denser air- based chemical instead of oxygen, would slowly fill the room as the oxygen was carried out on the breeze.

Annabeth would die a slow, painful death unless Thalia could get a rescue team together.

So, how had she gotten out of the tower? That morning, she hadn't got to finish her sentence to Annabeth, about the object that could be used for suicide. Well, a rope could be used, couldn't it? To strangle herself?

Thalia was sure it had been Jason, her brother, who she knew would have signed up for the Royal Guard this year, as he was of age, fifteen years old. He would have started training when he was eleven. Jason was the one who had finally thought enough was enough and sneaked the rope into his sister's weekly food rations so that she and her Lady could escape.

Thalia couldn't believe how much of Jason's life she had missed. Years. He would have grown up in the palace, being a long- distance relative of King Zeus. A hundredth- something cousin to Prince Heracles, known as Hercules in Othrys.

Thalia pushed herself to run faster, even though her underused muscles were screaming, her lungs protesting violently against the exercise. Being locked up in a tower for six years didn't really help her to maintain her fitness levels.

A couple of kilometres down the track, and Thalia couldn't go on. She stopped for a rest, wind whistling up and down her dry trachea, her legs trembling, face white with strain and clothes drenched with sweat.

If the group of travelling peasants hadn't found her collapsed in the middle of the road, about to get trampled by two very annoyed equestrians, Thalia probably would have fallen asleep, her sore throat aching for a cool drink of water. A cool drop of liquid plopped onto her cheek. Thalia's tongue snaked out and licked it up. It had a kind of- was that?

It tasted like the smell of dog breath.

As it was, Thalia opened her eyes only when she heard yelling and snorts coming from above her. Standing over her, foaming at the mouth, was a chestnut mare with a homemade rope harness around her neck. She immediately began spitting and slobbering and clawing at her mouth to get rid of the horrid taste of horse drool. She shuddered at the thought.

Thalia sat up, her head throbbing. A plump woman with a tattered midnight blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders was reaching out hand to help Thalia up. The woman was saying something.

A young man, perhaps Thalia's age, was behind her, picking her up by the armpits. Thalia caught an unpleasant whiff of farm animal.

She choked on her air, the horrible smell bringing her back to reality. "Miss? Miss! Are we all there?" the young man was saying urgently. He tapped her lightly on the face, then the forehead.

Thalia slapped his hand away. "I'm fine!" she snapped, then erupted into a fit of intense coughing. She fell to her knees. The woman put her hand on Thalia's back and patted her firmly. Thalia's coughing ceased. She realised that her cheek was planted firmly on the dirt road.

"Where am I?" she groaned, pushing herself up off the ground. Her voice was so croaky that it broke on every word.

The woman handed her a water canteen. "You are in King Zeus' land. Olympus. Are you lost, young one?"

The woman spoke funny, Thalia realised. She had a funny dialogue- somewhere between twangy and nasal, though the woman's voice was so deep it could have been reverberating from the bowels of the earth.

Or perhaps it was Thalia's accent that was funny- she hadn't compared her own voice to another human being's beside Annabeth's in six years.

Thalia shook her head in astonishment. Twenty four hours ago, she had not thought that this is how she would be spending her day.

The dumbfounded girl laughed humourlessly, her voice shaky as she said, "Lost? No more than the next person, I guess. Seriously, where am I?"  
The woman murmured something under her breath, staring at Thalia, sizing her up.

"Are you, by any chance, a rogue spy, sent to watch our actions like a fly on the wall? Sent by the scoundrel King Kronos?"

Thalia huffed. "I don't look that scruffy, do I? I had a bath the other day."

The young man snorted quietly. Thalia looked at him quizzically, but he shook his head dismissively.

"My name is Rhoda Fressiere and this is my son Koren. We are nomads. Travel where we please, ruled by no one. Who is your master, child?"

"Child? I'm no younger than your son here."

"My name is Koren." Koren said, with a hint of whining in his voice. Thalia decided that she didn't like him. He seemed too- what was the word? Ungrateful? Snobbish? No, more like he was- heedless of his surroundings. Unaware of anyone but himself.

"Do you need a ride, young one?" Rhoda offered apprehensively. "We'd be happy to escort you."

Thalia looked down. Then back up, a flush colouring her cheeks. She didn't like asking things of strangers, but… "Yes, please. But only on one condition."

Rhoda raised a bushy eyebrow.

"I work for it." It seemed like a noble response, but Rhoda and Koren burst into peals of laughter, like it was the most ridiculous reply they had ever heard.

"What?" Thalia asked defensively.

"Never decline a free ride, child. You take what's offered with glee."

Rhoda grabbed Thalia's arm and pulled her into the cart. The trio set off.

"Where to, petal?" Rhoda asked, while Koren was manning the reigns.

Thalia pouted. "Don't call me petal."

"Where do you wish to be carted, Driftwey, if you prefer?" Koren asked in a mock exasperation tone.

"Driftwey? That's just lame."

"Oh, gods, mother. She's infuriating. Can we just drop her in the sewer ditch and be done with a bundle of trouble?"

"Shut up and watch the road, Pebble," Rhoda ordered her son. Thalia stifled a laugh.

Rhoda turned to Thalia. "Tell us where you want to be dropped off. We will happily apply." There was a not- so- subtle grunt from Koren.

"The closest town. I don't care. Anywhere where there is civilisation."

"You heard the lady, Koren. To Μαρμάρινου Αγάλματος της γης!" Rhoda said something incomprehensive to Thalia's ears.

"I'm _not _a lady, alright? Just a simple peasant. And, _excuse me?_" she said.

"It is our native language for the name of this town. Only during King Zeus's parents' reign did we begin to speak this new, complicated language. It is against Royal Law to speak the old tongue. In your native tongue, it would be called Jupiter's Land."

"Jupiter…" Thalia murmured. "Jupiter is one of King Zeus's many names…"

"That's right, Pixie."

"If I have to say, "_I'm not a_" _One more time, I will strangle you with the mare's harness."

Rhoda laughed. "Almost there, honey. Ready the whip, Kory. I'd hang on tight, sweet."

Thalia didn't even bother to reply with a smart ass comment.

Koren brought his stick down hard on the mare's rump. The cart shot forward, bouncing over potholes and dirt mounds so fast that Thalia was amazed that a wheel didn't snap off.

Thalia could feel her nausea returning. This wild ride wasn't going to mix well with her empty stomach, she knew.

The cart stopped abruptly at a set of double wooden gates just in time for Thalia to puke up her non- existent breakfast.

The guard at the gate looked at her with disgust.

She stepped off the cart, stumbling, her head woozy and her vision swimming. "Bit too much to drink, miss?" the guard asked in the same strange accent as Rhoda and Koren.

"No!" Thalia gasped, collapsing to her knees and holding her throbbing head. "Rough ride!"

Leaving Koren at the reigns of the wagon, Rhoda quickly came to Thalia's aid, standing her up, steadying her against a tree.

Rhoda turned to the guard and laughed merrily. "Newbie." The guard nodded and cracked a smile. He walked forward and shook Rhoda's hand in a gesture that seemed formal, polite, yet friendly at the same time.

Thalia watched in amazement as Rhoda saluted the guard, waved to her, shouted, "Good luck, dearie!" And drove away at the mad speed that they had set before.

Thalia hugged the tree, glad for its steadfast stillness, solidity. The guard appraised her. Thalia gulped- he was a big, burly man with biceps rippling with muscle. He held a spear and on his back was a bow and full quiver of quail- feathered arrows. "What is your name, miss?"

Thalia let go of the tree carefully, not sure whether she was able to stand upright independently yet. Relief washed over her when she didn't suddenly topple over. "Thalia Grace. I have come to receive aid for a friend of mine who is trapped in a building that is ablaze."

The man carefully held out his hand. She let their hands touch and he grasped hers with a firm grip that seemed so gentle, yet so like iron. Thalia immediately knew that this man could snap her neck so easily, slight and slender as she was.

They shook hands, just as the man had with Rhida and silently studied each other. Finally the man said, "You'd better come in. We have to discuss this with the troops."

The man led her inside the gates. He turned to her. "Oh, I forgot. My name is Beckendorf."

**I think you know what the next chapter is going to be! Looking forward to it! Oh, by the way, that greek word, in English characters, would be: Marmarinou Agalmatos Tes Ges. Just saying.**

**Also, some people have been saying that my chapters are repeating themselves, or something. I can't see anything wrong, so I can't fix it. Sorry if it's annoying you. **

**So, yeah. Please check out my other stories and maybe leave a review. Maybe. Hopefully. You get the picture.**

**Bananas in Pyjamas out :P **


	6. Free, At Last

**Hi! I'm sooo sorry about the wait. I'm so loaded down with assignments and studying for tests that I completely forgot about FF! And I don't even have my own computer, so I just have to snag my mum's laptop when she's not using it. **

**Oh, wow. Chapter 6. Time flies when you're having fun!**

**In response to reviews:**

**Autumnal Equinox- **I don't think my plot is cliché. Perhaps a bit weird, but we'll see. Glad you like my writing!

**ShimmeringDaisyFace- **Hehe, everyone just LOVES a good cliffy, don't they? And as for Beck dying, well, we'll just have to wait and see!

**Salivator- **That is, by far, the funniest review Ihave ever was just a figure of speech when I said she was on fire. It's another way of saying that she feels like she's burning up, or her clothes are on fire. Sorry about the confusion.

**Bilboardcrabs- **Maybe, hopefully, you'll leave a review that isn't this weird. If you find out what happens, then will you leave a proper review? Pleeaase :)

**So, enjoy, my friends. Don't expect another update till the middle, maybe even ****_next weekend. _****Sorry. School is prioritised first, after all (sighs).**

**Chapter 6:**

**Free**

Riding on the back of the guy Travis's horse, Thalia felt more alive and free than she ever had before. The wind in her hair, the cold, dry air in her face- it felt amazing. She relished in breathing the scent of pine trees and eucalyptus.

_Annabeth loves the eucalyptus scent. _Thalia suddenly felt guilty. Here she was, riding on the back of a horse, free, when Annabeth was trapped in a tower with no means of escape. Her lungs filling with toxic fumes. Slowly dying- _Stop it. _Thalia commanded herself. _Worrying about it won't help matters. Just find the damn place, first. _

"Single file!" Beckendorf suddenly called in his strange, mismatched accent, his voice gruff and deep, resonating in Thalia's ear drums. She grasped her head. How long had it been since she had heard a voice like that…

Just then, she was jolted from behind when the black stallion behind them got his head up Travis's horse's a- hole.

Thalia was tempted to turn around and yell at the rider of the horse, "You've got reigns and spurs. Use them."

Some guy at the back of the pack yelled something indecipherable to Thalia's raw ears, overloaded with so many new and interesting sounds and voices.

Beckendorf said quietly (as quiet as he can get when the very timbre of his voice rocks the earth), "I- I think_" He stopped shortly, then carried on with, "I'm pretty sure I heard something."

There was silence except for the crunching of pebbles as the horses set a cautious but urgent pace.

"We must be getting close, then," the guy on the black stallion behind us said. Was his name Pocky? Or was it Pooch? She knew it started with a 'P'.

Thalia suddenly noticed a piece of blue tattered cloth lying on the side of the road.

A shred of Rhoda's blue shawl. Thank the gods for Rhoda's clumsiness and carelessness and forgetfulness and- Thalia stopped herself before this got off topic.

She grinned. "It's only a little further." If you counted 'a little further' to be a few little kilometres.

The horses set a steady pace, following the wide dirt road. As the group trod on, the air became thick with smoke.

After what seemed like about half an hour, a large shadow loomed out of the gloom. The tower.

"That's it. That's the building." she whispered in Travis's ear. He nodded slightly.

"Hey Beck, the girl says that this is the place. Stop?"

As Beckendorf (she'd have to learn his real name soon- that couldn't be a name on its own) and everyone else, including Thalia and Travis, dismounted, Thalia became aware of a choking, gasping sound. Retching. Keening. Wailing. Call it what you want. To her, it meant only one thing: _Annabeth was still alive._

One of the men- she recalled his name to be Robstick, or was it Rodrick? She really _was _terrible with names- pulled Thalia into the group huddle. "Right, team. How do we proceed from here?" Beckendorf asked.

Silence. Thalia felt so out of place, so insignificant and small compared to all these men. Even the smallest, that Perry guy, even he could have been twice her width. But, then again, she _was _abnormally skinny.

Thalia pushed her way into the centre of the group. The boys spread out to get a better view of her. Thalia felt self conscious. She shrugged it off.

"Anyone got a bow?" Thalia asked in a loud voice.

"Yeah." Someone said gruffly. When Thalia turned to see who had spoken, she immediately didn't like the guy. She noticed that he spent too much time looking at places on her that were _not _her face. Thalia's cheeks flushed. That perve.

"Perfect. We just need to attach my rope to an arrow, shoot it up to the sill, and I can climb up. Somebody can stand down the bottom to catch me if I fall. Sounds like a plan?"

Nobody protested, so Thalia took charge.

"Who's the best shot here?" Everybody looked to P—ierre? (Thalia honestly couldn't recall his name for the life of her.)

"Alright, um, okay, um," Thalia stumbled. "I don't think we've, um, been introduced?" she stuttered. This hadn't gone as smoothly as she'd originally wanted.

The guy grinned. Thalia liked him straight away. He stuck his hand out. "Percy. Pleasure."

Thalia returned the shake and his friendly squeeze of her hand.

"Okay, Percy. Tie the end of this rope," Thalia unwrapped the rope from around her waist, "to an arrow. Aim for the window sill. Don't worry, it's good sturdy brick. Use a steel tipped arrow."

As Percy was lining up for the shot, one of the men sidled up to Thalia and said, "Why would your mate be in the old rotting thing, anyway?"

"Astronomy experiments. Good view of the sky," Thalia lied smoothly.

"I'd love to learn about the constellations, and star maps. How to draw a connect- the- dots with something so huge…"

A thud sounded throughout the valley. "Done," Percy said proudly. Thalia assessed the shot with a critical eye.

"It'll do," she said. Rule number one of compliments: never over do the praise. The truth was, Percy had hit exactly the right spot, and apparently with ease. The guy had a natural talent. Thalia wondered what his swordsmanship was like. If it was anything like his archery…

Thalia clapped Percy on the back, silent praise. Then she saluted the group and started to ascend the rope.

It wasn't as easy as it had looked prior to actually climbing. In fact, if Thalia hadn't been so desperate to reach Annabeth, she might have just given up and said it was impossible.

But, she had gotten down somehow. She could get back up. She _would _get back up.

By the time she reached the high window sill, she was drenched with sweat and her lungs were burning from the sulphuric odour of the smoke.

Thalia looked down and gulped. How high was she? About ten meters? Twenty? She wasn't a good judge when it came to heights- she had a tendency to be irrational. See, this tough- looking, tough sounding girl had an immense fear of heights, one that she wouldn't admit to. But she couldn't let the men see how scared she was, sitting up there on the sill. She unclenched one hand from the sill and waved bravely.

Then she slipped inside the window and braced herself for the worst.

She had been expecting a dead, black body, or perhaps nothing. Just ash. But there was Annabeth, huddled in a ball next to the window. Her breathing was shallow. Ash and soot was smudged across her pretty, hollowed out face. She looked like a member of the Living Dead.

Thalia knelt and touched Annabeth's forehead. "Annabeth? Are you alright? I've brought help. An escape team. Get up."

Annabeth lifted her head slowly, her burned hair giving off an acrid smell. A little strand floating next to her face was smouldering slightly. Thalia reached forward, rubbed it between her fingers, and extinguished it.

"Annabeth?"

Annabeth stared at Thalia. Then tears started running down her cheeks. "You left me. You escaped without me. You left me to die alone."

"No! No, Annabeth, no, no, no! You don't understand! You passed out, and I had to get help. I pulled together a team of men-"

"Men?" Annabeth asked, curling up against herself even more. "No. I refuse to be rescued by a bunch of men. To travel with them. I blithely refuse." Annabeth raised her chin defiantly.

Thalia mentally face palmed. "Don't be stupid, Annabeth. They're not going to harm you. And if you stay in this room, you'll die"

"I'd rather die than travel with a filthy herd of slobbering, grimy pigs who like nothing better than-"

"Um, am I interrupting something?" Both women whipped their heads towards where Percy was standing awkwardly at the window.

"You!" Thalia said, frowning. "Why are _you _here?! This is a private matter! Get lost!"

Ignoring the proposed question, Percy turned to Annabeth. "So _you're _the mysterious dying friend. You don't look very dead. Come on, we'll take you back to the village to be washed, fed, then you'll go to the castle and-"

"No!" Annabeth suddenly flinched. Her voice started trembling. Her fingers were shaking. "Not the castle. I'll stay in the village. Work for a living. No castles. Dresses. Maids. Prisoners."

Percy looked at Thalia inquisitively. He obviously thought Annabeth was a bit loony. Well, once he heard her depressing life story, he would be a bit more understanding, Thalia reasoned.

Thalia put her hands on her hips and glared Annabeth down. "Annabeth. I won't allow you to stay in this poisonous room, gradually wasting away until you die. You're coming with us." Annabeth didn't cast her eyes down like any sane person would when confronted by a certain vicious black haired, blue eyed woman.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" Annabeth screamed, standing so suddenly that her under used muscles tensed painfully. She cried out and fell to her knees, her fists clenched on the floor. Tears spilled again. "I promised myself I wouldn't go back there..."

Percy and Thalia looked at each other, Percy silently asking a question. Thalia nodded.

Percy strode over, grabbed Annabeth's hand, slipped his own hand under her thighs, and suddenly she wasn't on her feet anymore, but in his arms, bridal style.

Annabeth suddenly felt hot, and dirty. She had never understood her hatred for men. Only her mother could have explained it, and she was gone a long time ago…

Annabeth squirmed. Percy's hand, though probably unintentional, was a bit too close to Annabeth's bottom for comfort.

Annabeth tried to stop her hyperventilating. She couldn't let them know that she was having issues. She would just deal with it. Besides, Percy seemed like a nice guy. He wouldn't try anything wrong, would he?...

"Put me down!" she yelled, fury lacing her words. "You have no right to just pick me up and-"

"And save you from an otherwise certain death?" Percy asked, raising his eyebrows. They both knew that Annabeth was being irrational and unpractical. But still, Annabeth struggled until Percy finally huffed and dropped her. She rolled, then stood up again, cautiously. Percy advanced towards her, hands forward in a position that was initially used for people who are surrendering. Annabeth backed away, as much as she could, until her back was pressed up against the ivy covered wall.

"No," she breathed. He stopped and rested his hands on top of his thighs.

"So, are you going to be helpful, or not?"

Annabeth looked up, her eyes skimming over everything in the room but him. Then their eyes met. Her eyes... Grey, stormy, intimidating… He gulped.

Something was starting to resurface in his mind… an old legend. The Grey- Eyed One. The Tower. Six Long Years.

"Annabeth…" Percy started cautiously. He regarded her elegant, rich- looking but faded clothes. The black and blue colour scheme. The eagle insignia on the hem…

It clicked. The story of the Forgotten One. The defiant daughter of Lord Frederick who refused to marry a noble of Othrys origin.

"It's _you_!" Percy exclaimed, his voice box finally working. "Lady Annabeth."

Annabeth flinched. "I am not a Lady. I refused to marry Luke Castellan of Othrys. A war started, and I was imprisoned in isolation, and have been here ever since. My father disowned me."

Percy stared at the blond. She spoke with such… deadness in her voice. But also a hint of… was that… a waver in her voice? Percy shivered. She was so emotionally unstable. One minute screaming, the next crying. Like she could snap at any time.

"Look… Percy, is it?" Percy nodded suspiciously. "Look, just give me time, okay? Don't refer to me as a Lady, or relate me in any way to Lord Frederick. I will go back to the village with you, and then we will never see each other again, yes? None of the men will know about me, and I will put this horrific experience behind me, never to resurface in my mind."

Annabeth clenched her fists and tried to melt into the wall. She had become even more impossible for Percy. Was she always this melodramatic? Percy wondered. He turned away from the trembling blond and made for the open window, where the rope was gently swaying in the wind.

"Alright," he sighed, twisting to face her one last time. "Just trying to be helpful." Thalia had been watching the scene with a scrutinizing stare, observing the way Annabeth was trying to hide hyperventilating, her slight trembling, her sudden paleness.

Something was up. And Thalia would find out. Percy disappeared over the window sill. The rope was taught, then sprung up a couple of minutes later when he reached the ground.

"So, my dear Lady. What was that all about?" Now, Annabeth was contrite, her eyes downcast. Thalia knew that tears were welling up, and Annabeth didn't want anybody to see that.

"Hey, it's alright. We'll all leave you alone now. I'm going down, and if I don't see you within the next ten minutes, I'm going to send a big rough man up to mess with you." Annabeth gave an audible gasp, and her chest convulsed. Thalia knew that she was being mean now, but Annabeth was being unreasonable.

"So, see you down there?" Thalia sat on the sill, not looking at the ground. She grasped the rough rope in her hand.

Annabeth nodded, still looking at the ground.

Thalia swung herself over the sill, and was glad to find that coming down the rope was much easier than going up.

Her feet touched the ground, and she didn't even have to look to know that Annabeth would be right behind her.

Her pride could never hold against the curiosity, the need to see the outside world for the first time in six long years.

Thalia let go of the rope and grinned at Percy. _Mission accomplished. _She mouthed.

**Suckish ending, I know. Sorry. **

**In the next couple of chapters, I'll be revealing why Annabeth hates men so much (be prepared, those of you with soft stomachs. It's pretty nasty.) Also, somebody said that my plot might turn out to be really cliched. I've tried to be different in all aspects, so I certainly hope it's not cliched!**


	7. Defensiveness

**Konichiwa, fans. Sorry about the long wait. I've been sooo loaded down with assignments, and I don't own this laptop, and… yeah, you ****_don't _****want to hear my long list of reasons why I couldn't upload sooner… Don't worry, holidays coming up in nine school days.**

**Yay. So excited. Year 9 next year. Oh, joy…**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter (though not as many as I'd hoped…)**

**Please enjoy this chapter!**

**Chapter 7:**

**Defensiveness**

Annabeth cautiously placed her bare foot on the ground. The grass, on top of which rested a layer of fine ash, was so soft. Annabeth felt very faint. It had been so long since she had been at ground level, her ears had gotten used to the pressure of being higher up in the atmosphere. She had already felt sick by the time she was halfway down the rope during her descent. Down here, it was unbearable.

The group of men crowded against Annabeth's miniscule body. She curled in on herself, her head tucked into her chest, and swayed slightly.

_Left, right. Left, right. _

Everything was silent.

Thalia almost expected crickets to start chirping, it was so quiet.

"Miss?" A man with an insanely deep voice and a strange accent that hurt Annabeth's tender ears bent down and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. Annabeth flinched violently, scrambling to get away from this man. All of them. The whole filthy lot of them.

A murmuring broke through the group.

"Are you in need of aid?" the man continued, despite Annabeth's impoliteness.

The girl who was so pale she resembled a ghost glanced up, but the sun's rays that cut through the thick veil of smoke blinded her. She cast her eyes down again, clutching her temples.

Percy stared down at the skeletal girl on the ground. His mind couldn't comprehend what the facts said. She was The Forgotten One. The girl the Old Legend was based on. The main character in all those ghost stories told around camp fires deep in the woods. Except The Grey- Eyed One in those stories was an old hag who escaped the tower using rats' tails tied together to create a long rope. The hag was then so mad she took revenge on a nearby town, wreaking havoc on the innocent civilians.

Mothers said to naughty children: "If you misbehave, the Hag will come and gobble you up and take your remains back to her tower to forever dwell in her stench."

Of course Percy didn't believe in that version anymore. Still, he had always wondered if those stories had even an ounce of truth in them.

He hadn't been expecting a beautiful girl to be the Hag. And, yes, he admitted it. She _was _beautiful. In fact, as he stared at her, Percy was sure her features were rearranging themselves so that the girl became even _more _gorgeous.

The boy shook his head, blinked, and looked away. _Rachel's prettier, _he thought.

"What is your name?" Beckendorf asked Annabeth. Annabeth didn't answer. Just cringed and continued to sway.

_Left, right. Left, right. _

Thalia bent down and whispered something in Annabeth's ear that Percy couldn't hear. Thalia stood up, her fists clenched. "Please forgive my friend, good people. She seems to be suffering from shock and fright. Her name is Annabeth_"

An outbreak of muttering tore through the silence. A man coughed. Thalia glared at the ground, arms crossed, tapping her foot. She cleared her throat. The quiet ensued. "Thank you. Her name is Annabeth." Muttering again. Thalia continued, annoyance lacing her voice. "On behalf of both of us, we'd like to be escorted back to- to, um_"

"Μαρμάρινου Αγάλματος της γης?" Percy offered.

Thalia nodded. "Yeah, what he said. So, would you comply?"

Beckendorf didn't reply. He scrutinised Annabeth, his forehead creased. His thin mouth was set in a determined way. Sweat beaded his temples.

As he looked upon the blond, then back to the brunette, something I his eyes flashed, become clearer, less muddled.

"I know your game, Miss. I know who you really are." Beckendorf said, turning. His brown eyes glared into Thalia's electric blue ones. "You shouldn't have lied to me."

"What, Beck? What's the bitch lie about?" Killian slurred. Thalia wondered vaguely if he'd snuck some cheap ale down his slimy throat before departing with the group.

"_That._" Beckendorf spit the word _that_, contempt and disgust obvious in his voice. He pointed to Annabeth on the ground.

"She's not a 'that'!" Thalia defended, frowning.

Beckendorf ignored Thalia. "That repulsive thing on the ground is the cause of the war! The war which wreaked havoc in our otherwise peaceful lands, destroyed what serenity that Olympus possessed." He was now getting heated up. "That _thing_, that pitiful _thing _on the ground, because of it's own selfishness, some of us lost our homes, our loved ones and family! It _let_ our favourite slime ball Kronos enter our sacred sites and decimate them to a pile of rubble! Our cultures and religion are now forgotten, and some are murdered for simply speaking our own native language! Do you see, boys, how _she _has messed with our lives?" Beckendorf spat on Annabeth. Thalia bent down and wiped the saliva off of Annabeth's hair with her shirt sleeve.

"Now, that was uncalled for!" Thalia said furiously.

Annabeth kept her eyes closed tightly, not letting anyone see the tears she was holding back. The guilt and misery. The man was right. It _was _her fault, wasn't it?

"Spoiled little rat!" Beckendorf roared, still ignoring Thalia. "How'd it feel to be disowned by your pretty boy noble daddy? Hurts, huh? Welcome to our world, bitch!"

Percy gently put his hand on Beckendorf's shoulder, holding him back from slapping Annabeth, or even doing worse.

Annabeth's shoulders shook from the strain of locking her tears inside her eye lids. She would not be pitied. Scorned, yes, but not pitied. Never.

"Beck," Percy said quietly. As much as Annabeth's irrational choice had ruined the lives of many, she had only been twelve. Percy wasn't sure that _anybody _would have said yes to a complete stranger's marriage proposal at twelve years of age, no matter what the repercussions or consequences. "I know you lost_"

"Don't say her name in the presence of_" Beckendorf stopped and glared with disgust at Annabeth. Everyone, even drunk Killian, got the picture.

"Yes, but you can't blame Annabeth for- well, the death of that person. Would you have said yes to marry a complete stranger at twelve years old?"

"To save my lands, yes. Isn't it the responsibility of the nobles to be, well, _noble?_" Plain fury was etched across the distraught man's face.

Thalia stepped forward. "Now, hold on a minute, man." Every head turned her way. "Are you going to help us or not?"

Beckendorf threw his head back and roared with laughter. "Are you kidding me? Help _that_? Where was _she _all those years that our people were dying of starvation, cold, hunger, disease because she let the enemy step into our territory unchallenged?"

"She was sitting in a tower, helpless, defeated, guilty. Yes, she had the fancy dresses, and food delivered every week, and she slept in a proper bed and had a warm fire place to sit at during the window, but do you really think that she was up here partying for six years while her people were suffering? She was just as_"

"Why don't you let her defend herself, Thalia," the man who Thalia thought was named Rodrick said in a somewhat gentler tone.

"Shut up! All of you! Just, please!" Annabeth was standing now. Everyone, even Thalia, stared at her in amazement. How had she stood without drawing the attention of the group? Tears were streaming down her face. "Don't you think that if I could, I would go back to that moment six years ago, and say yes to Luke Castellan's marriage proposal?"

The men's stunned faces stared at Annabeth. "What?" she demanded.

"L-Luke Castellan, did you say?" Percy whispered. He glanced at Beckendorf and covered his mouth. Beck's face was redder than a cherry. Annabeth cringed. Had she said the wrong thing?

"Luke Castellan proposed to you." Beckendorf breathed. "Six years ago. You."

"That's right," Annabeth took a step back,. Her knees were weak with this irrational fear... She had no wish to be slapped. She'd had enough of that in her life…

"The nerve of him…"

"What the Hades are you going on about?" Annabeth yelled. "Just spit it out, okay?"

"Geez, Annie," Killian chuckled, undressing her with his eyes. Annabeth stepped back from him.

"Don't call me Annie, you sleaze," Annabeth seethed, her fists clenching.

Beckendorf still seemed dazed.

"Who is this Castellan guy, anyway?" Annabeth demanded of the men.

There was silence. Then Beckendorf said, "Last year, Luke Castellan was killed in a one on one fight to the death with_" Just then the tower started groaning.

Debris rained down.

"Run!" Thalia screamed. "The tower's coming down!"

The group mounted their horses, Thalia and Annabeth being thrown on Percy's and Beckendorf's horses, and the tower crumbled to a pile of rubble in the dust cloud the horses left.

**I'm pretty sure you hate me now. Love you too, wonderful fans.**

**So, who did Annabeth's choice supposedly kill? And who killed Luke Castellan in a duel to the death?**

**So, 29 reviews. I was hoping for at least 50 by now. Any chance we can get it up to 35 by the time I've uploaded chapter 8?**

**Please?**

**I'd really appreciate it…**

**Thanks for your continued support.**

**Out :P**


	8. So, What Now?

**Please, please, I'm begging you- if you have not already REREAD the story, do so now! Many things were changed as I was unhappy with it the way it was. **

**Thanks to these people who reviewed: **

**Mystery Guest- **That is by far the longest review I have ever received. And as for what time period this story is set in, whatever. It's supposed to be kinda medieval, with horses, wagons, swords, archery, an unfair monarchy- all those things. And I guess I was just assuming that they had wheelchairs and schools and stuff back then. So, please, go for the medieval assumption, but feel free to believe it's in whatever time period you want.

**Codex**

**Frovey- **When you put a review like that, you make me feel like a spoiled child, want want want. But, what author doesn't want reviews? Since I'm probably one of the youngest authors around here (most of yous seem to be in college, and I've only just turned thirteen) I guess my confidence levels are sagging. And, yes, this story _does _seem to be a big hit with reviews.

**ButterflyFlyToMe- **Haha, we all love a good cliffhanger, don't we? Is this update soon enough for you? I have no wish to be murdered in my sleep :)

**Jojo**

**Amy's Mischievous Little Owl- **Oh. My. Gods. You're the author of some of my favourite stories! It's an honour to have you visit, and review, on my stories! Thanks so much!

**Lovepercy21- **think what you want, you'll only find out if you keep reading! :)

**Hermes' Little Girl- **haha, that's what we all are secretly thinking. Thankyou for sharing your opinion with me.

**Jade Night- **Don't worry, I will keep on keeping on, as you put it!

**Once again, thanks sooo much to all those who reviewed. I feel so happy :D coz people like my story :DD**

**Chapter 8:**

**So, What Now?**

The crash echoed throughout the still valley. Annabeth had been hanging on so tightly to that intrusive Percy guy that her arms had gone white.

As soon as the group had stopped after riding hard for three minutes to escape the old crumbling dilapidated tower that was coming down fast, Annabeth had practically jumped off the horse, wiping her hands on her dress as if she were contaminated by male cooties just by hanging on to Percy for dear life.

Thalia was on the ground, clutching her stomach and sweat dripping from her temples. The fast paced ride with Rhoda and Koren had been bad enough. But on the back of a horse, clinging to another human being, with no safety equipment? Put that together with a tower that's about to fall on them, and the stress of seeing Annabeth closed off and out of character, then you have a very sickly Thalia.

Bile rose in her throat. She retched, her long black sticky hair hanging down, forming a kind of veil between her and the inquisitive group of men staring down at her. Thalia tried to pretend they weren't there, because she was feeling even more self conscious, and weak, and anxious than when they weren't watching.

She lifted her face to the curious gazes of the boys and snapped, "Have you never seen a girl get sick before? Shoo, go mind your own bloody business!"

The men scrambled to do as Thalia said.

She spat out a sticky, smelly yellow substance.

"So, where are Thalia and I going now?" Annabeth asked in a small, deflated voice.

Thalia paused in her spitting of vermin to listen.

Beckendorf scoffed. "You? Nowhere. Me and my crew are going home. Waste of a trip, this was. C'mon, men. Mount up. We're leaving. We wish you all the best in finding a hospitable place to stay, good ladies."

Beckendorf saluted. "Wait!" Thalia yelled, panicked. "You can't just leave us here, on the side of the road! There are bandits, rapists, _murderers!_"

Beckendorf shrugged. "Not my problem. Let's be going, lads."

"Beck," Percy said, hesitating. He glanced at Thalia and Annabeth. "Thalia's right. Please see sense when I say that these are dangerous times, and two young women all alone in the middle of nowhere, with no means of protection, and bandits and raiders at every twist in the road, definitely spells trouble. At least leave them a weapon."

Beckendorf growled. He knew Percy was right. It would be unmanly to leave two women stranded. "Alright, Killian. Leave your dagger. Then we can be off. You know how to fight, girl?" he asked of Thalia.

"How could I have learned to wield a weapon, locked in a tower for six years?" Thalia asked snarkily.

"Best kind of learning is on the job."

Killian dropped his dagger. Beckendorf nodded in assent, and the group was off. Percy looked back once. His expression was anything but glad to be deserting Annabeth and Thalia. But a minute later, all the girls could see of the group was a disturbed layer of settling dust.

Thalia keeled over, sprawling on the ground, hands behind head, eyes closed.

Annabeth rested her hands on her thighs, sweating severely in her choking, heavy dress. She grabbed the hem on her skirt, testing it. It was only gossamer silk over a couple of layers of dense cotton. Easy enough to rip.

She began to slowly tear away. After a couple of minutes of this activity, Annabeth inspected her work. She was halfway around the dress. It wasn't neat and tidy or even, but it would do. Her whole bodice was a couple of shades darker than its normal colour, courtesy of the sweat the material had soaked up.

She gave the skirt one last tear. The bottom came off, along with a huge chunk of the top layer of the bodice. Oh well. That's one less layer to hold in her heat.

They had now been sitting in that place for ten minutes. Thalia hadn't moved a muscle. Annabeth sat, staring, until she could take no more.

"Thalia." She said. Thalia grumbled something unintelligible. "What was that?" Annabeth asked in an unusually high pitch. She cleared her throat of the abnormality.

Thalia sat up and rubbed her slightly red face. "We probably should find a source of water. I'm about to die of thirst here."

Annabeth silently agreed.

The girls began walking. "We should walk downhill. That's where we're most likely to find a small oasis." Annabeth said. They walked in silence. Idle chatter filled a small portion of it.

"I should not have thrown my sandals into the fire. My feet are blistered and burning already."

"I'm starting to get unbearably thirsty. Are we nearly there?"

"Don't start that, please. I've read manuscripts about annoying children sitting in the back seat of wagons asking that question over and over again, when the family is going on a long trip."

"I am not starting anything. I really _am _thirsty. Oh, look, is that_"

"No, I saw it too. It's just something called a mirage, formed when sunlight hits a surface and the heat waves are reflected, therefore creating a hallucination."

"I knew that, Thalia. I'm not an idiot. Wait_" Annabeth stopped abruptly. "Did you hear that?"

Thalia kept on, bouncing from foot to foot to minimise the burn on each bare sole. "I didn't hear anything, Annabeth. Here come the hallucinations…"

Annabeth frowned, but resumed her steady pace.

_Crunch, crunch, crunch. _

She stopped again, sure she'd heard correctly this time. "Thalia, I'm sure I heard a suspicious_"

That's when an iron- like arm closed around her throat, cutting off her air supply. She crumpled to the ground, her vision going black.

Thalia, hearing the crunch of Annabeth's steps falter, twisted slightly, still bouncing from foot to foot. Seeing Annabeth curled on the ground, she raised her eyebrows.

"Hey, I know it's hot, and you're thirsty, but so am I, and that's no reason to_" Just then a hard fist came into contact with her nose and she let out a short scream. "What the_"

She was brutally kicked in the side. "Hey!" she shrieked. "Who the frigging hell do you think you are to_" That's when an iron- tipped boot hit her temple with the force of Percy's steel tipped arrow once flung from the taught bow string, hard enough to bury itself in a brick window sill.

Thalia didn't stand a chance. She was unconscious immediately.

* * *

Percy knew that Beckendorf was wrong. Just because he had a grudge, didn't mean he had to take it out on Annabeth. It was not directly her fault that the war had started, and Beckendorf's loved one was killed.

But still, Beckendorf was the leader, and Percy had to follow his instructions, even if he didn't like them. His loyalties didn't lie with two girls he had barely known for an hour.

As Percy and the group thundered back into the village, their horses dripping and slippery with sweat, foaming at the mouths, a mob of villagers tried to wheedle information (more like gossip, Percy thought) out of Beckendorf.

One of those people was Rachel Elizabeth Dare. "Rachel!" he called. Rachel, who was tailing on the back of the band of girls, made a point of putting up her nose, turning away from him and stalking off.

Percy mentally groaned. He should have known that she would be mad at his leaving without telling her.

Percy guided Blackjack into a stall, quickly brushed him down and returned all the gear into the right places, then practically tripped over himself trying to run to find Rachel before she hated him forever.

He glimpsed a flash of red in the crowd. His eyes strained to see further than the monstrous crowds that swarmed the markets.

He took off, ducking beneath tents, and pushing past people. He had to catch Rachel.

He didn't find her in the market square.

Percy slumped glumly. He made his way home, defeated.

"Hey, mum." He said dejectedly, slumping at the small granite table.

Sally Jackson wasn't too forgiving either. "I heard you took off with Beck and the group to put out a fire. Without telling me, nor any of your friends where you were going," Sally said calmly, placing her hands flat, palms down, on the table, her pretty face expressionless. Percy knew she meant business.

He didn't want any of it right now. "Not now, mum," Percy groaned, putting his head in his hands. "I'll listen to you later, but now, I really need to find Rachel. She's mad at me, and I have to apologise to her for leaving without permission, and I don't want to lose her friendship over something so silly_"

"That's all I needed to hear, idiot," and suddenly somebody was kissing Percy. He sat, frozen in his seat, before pushing the person away and saying, "_MUM?_"

Then he saw the red hair.

Of course. Of course Rachel would find refuge in his place. In the attic, where all the old crayons and charcoal sticks and papyrus papers were. Rachel would draw when she was upset, and the Jacksons' attic was the perfect place for a budding artist.

"Oh, Rachel," Percy said, fidgeting uncomfortably. He glanced around nervously for his mum. "Um, what are you doing?"

Rachel pulled back, a hurt expression in her emerald eyes. "Oh, I must have gotten the wrong impression. Do you not actually like me?"

Percy stared at her, his mouth agape. "Of course I like you. Of course I do. I like you." Percy mentally smacked himself. This was supposed to be the best moment of his life, and he was ruining it by being- oh, right. Himself.

"Then kiss me," Rachel said, staring at him. Silence. The two could hear Percy's mum bustling around in the kitchen, preparing lunch.

Percy blinked, then leaned forward. Their foreheads bumped, then their noses, and Percy partly fell off his chair, and Rachel's hair got tangled up in her mouth, and she had to spit it out, but eventually, their mouths touched and they both pulled away, smiling nervously.

"Um…" Percy said, still staring into Rachel's eyes. A faint pink came to his cheeks. Nothing like her flaming cherry red, though.

"Oh, um, am I interrupting anything?" Sally asked from the doorway. Both Percy and Rachel whirled towards the sound. Sally was holding a tray of cookies and three cups of non alcoholic apple cider. Their expressions were both so guilty and mortified that Sally laughed. "Why don't you stay for tea, Rachel?"

Percy and Rachel looked at each other. Percy cracked a smile and said, "Can she have a sleep over, too?"

"I think that will be absolutely fine. I'll leave you two alone, now." Sally winked once at Percy before exiting the room.

"So…" Rachel started. "What should we do now?"

Percy took her hand in his. "I have a pretty good idea…"

**Please don't hate me. A cliffhanger with Annabeth and Thalia, a bit… okay, a ****_lot _****of Prachel… honestly, this must be the ****_worst chapter ever _****for you guys.**

**But, this is an important part of the story. Please continue to show your support and do not hesitate to share your opinion with me!**

**Don't forget to check out my stories, and I'm always open to receiving reviews!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana**


	9. Desires and Promises

**I'm sorry I took so long to update- our internet was cut off for TWO WEEKS! But it gave me time to catch up on all my stories, at least. I vow to never leave for that long AGAIN! **

**It's been a hard fourteen days, folks. But I made it out alive. A hint of advice: NEVER let ANYONE cut off your internet. It's pure torture. **

**And I just have to say to one reviewer: **

**Katara43- **I just have to say that I am a huge fan of Avatar: The Last Airbender**. **I personally prefer the cartoons to the animated reality movie, because Sokka's such a prude in the Real Movie! Have you seen all the episodes? I have! And I just fell in love with Zuko when his hair grew out long and shaggy. Sorry about the rant. Just had to get that off my chest. :)

**Somebody asked whether the sleepover scene with Percy and Rachel was implying adultery- no, it was just a sleepover, nothing- er, grown- up happened that night. **

**Also, a reviewer mentioned in their review that they didn't want there to be a 'slash pairing' in this story. I don't like to admit that I don't know, but, well, I really have no idea what you are talking about. And, if someone would be so kind as to answer, could you also please explain what Alternate World means in the same review? It would be much appreciated.**

**If you guys actually read my Authors Notes, can those of you who have bothered to read to this point put in your reviews somewhere: 'Pizza shapes are awesome!'.**

**Thanks!**

**Chapter 9 (already?):**

**Desires and Promises**

Thalia woke to a vicious headache. Her temple throbbed so bad she groaned softly and closed her eyes again, resting her forehead on the cool ground- wait. Was the ground _moving? _She opened her eyes and sat up quickly, which she regretted immediately. What was _up _with her head? Sure, she'd had minor headaches from dehydration and whatnot before, but this- this was just unbearable. Black spots danced in front of her vision. It didn't help that the surface she sat on was swaying- rocking, really.

Was she imagining it? Or did Annabeth feel it too- Annabeth! Thalia widened her eyes. She remembered now- the men abandoning them on the side of the road. Her burning, blistering feet. Being kicked violently in the temple.

But where _was _Annabeth? In fact, where was _Thalia? _

The dumbfounded girl slowly straightened out, her abused head protesting vehemently. She seemed to be in a wagon of some sort. It would at least explain the rocking. An annoying strand of dark hair interrupted her field of vision.

She went to brush it behind her ear, but found she couldn't move her hands. Of course. Of _course _they would be bound behind her back with course rope that did the tender skin of her wrists absolutely no favours at all.

Thalia cautiously leaned forward, scanning the wagon. She twisted slightly. Then there was Annabeth- her once magnificent dress dusty and torn, her feet bare, her eyes closed, curled into the foetal position in a corner of the wagon.

Thalia couldn't determine for sure whether Annabeth was breathing or not.

"Awwe, looky at that, Chris, the bastard's awake!" Thalia froze. How did _they_- whoever 'they' was- know that she was a bastard child? Or was the word 'bastard' just used as an insult?

Thalia turned her head to the source of the voice. Three boys were huddled at the head of the chariot, gulping from mugs of what Thalia guessed to be some sort of alcohol, if the strong, nose- wrinkling scent was any indication. Thalia guessed the boys would be about her age- 21- give or take a few years.

She tried to stand, but her balance was off. She stumbled to the floor, absolutely humiliated as the three boys chortled.

"Who are you to tie me up like a- like I'm no better than a dog?" Thalia demanded furiously.

None answered. This was even more frustrating. Especially to an ADHD person like Thalia. "Answer me!" she shouted. "Where are you taking us? Who the Hades _are _you?!"

"Oh, don't blow a fuse, missy. Can't afford to fix it."

This time, Thalia succeeded in standing without stumbling. "Oh, how _dare _you_"

"Ooh, watch out, Andy. She's gonna blow!"

Thalia clenched her fists behind her back and growled.

"Hello? What's going on here?" Thalia stopped short and whipped around. She regretted it. Her head thudded painfully and she screamed shortly, dropping to her knees.

"Annabeth," she groaned. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just a bit thirsty. You?" Annabeth was sitting up, looking completely at ease, like they weren't being kidnapped by a trio of lunatics.

"Does it look like I'm fine?" Thalia yelled, swearing. She got up shakily and turned to face the three amused boys. "I'm deadly serious when I say we have to get to- to- some place that starts with M_"

The big Hispanic guy, who the third Nameless guy had called Chris, smirked and said, "Marmarinou Agalmatos Tes Ges?"

"Yes. That. We must get there_"

"No problems there, missy. That's where you're going. Wouldn't be gentlemanly to leave two unprotected pretty young ladies on the side of the road, now, would it?"

Thalia didn't have much experience with strangers, but she knew there were hidden implications in Chris's voice. She shuddered.

"Who are you?" Thalia had forgotten that Annabeth was present as well. The blond had been quietly observing the three boys, assessing their hidden motives. Thalia could never understand how Annabeth read people so well- she had a natural talent for it, Thalia supposed.

"Us?" The guy that Nameless had called Andy smirked. "I'm Andrew Jabawaki. This here," he gestured to Chris, "is Christopher Rodriguez. And he," Andy pointed to Nameless, "Is Ethan Nakamura."

Thalia's every fibre told her that something was terribly wrong. She shouldn't trust these three.

Annabeth was clutching at her throat, like she was-

"Hey, Blondie, you thirsty?" the littlest of the trio, Andy, asked.

Annabeth looked suspicious for a minute, but she gave in and nodded eventually. Her hands were still at her throat. "Quite, actually. Have you any water?"

"Water? Only wimps drink water. I got something even better for you. Go on, try it. It's non alcoholic," Andy urged, putting his cup to Annabeth's lips. She sipped apprehensively, but soon her eyes widened. She snatched the cup off of Andy and guzzled it.

"Woah, easy, girl," Andy said, taking the cup off her. "So, what's your names?"

"I'm Annabeth," Annabeth gushed. She fluttered her eyelashes at Andy. "Annabeth Sagesse Chase. Pleased to meet you." Thalia shot Annabeth a warning look. Annabeth paid no heed.

"Oh, but the pleasure is mine," Andy murmured. His unnerving gaze settled on Annabeth's bosom a little longer than necessary. He helped Annabeth up and Thalia pretended not to notice when Annabeth brushed her hand against Andy's chest.

Thalia backed up to the chariot wall. Something sharp and cold poked her in the behind. "Ooh!" she said in surprise. She glanced around suddenly, but no one was paying any attention to her. She looked down at the sharp culprit on the wall. It was an exposed nail.

A plan formed in Thalia's mind. It was perfect, just what she would need to get out of here. She'd just slice her rope on the nail, cut Annabeth's rope with Killian's knife that was inside Thalia's corset and then- just then Thalia heard a sound that she thought she would never _ever _hear in her life. A sound that she wished she hadn't heard.

Annabeth was giggling, and _purring. _Something was up. Thalia once again glanced at the cup in Andy's hand- Andy's hand! It was- it was- Thalia gulped- in a place on Annabeth's body that it was most definitely _not_ supposed to be. Andy put the cup to Annabeth's lips. She greedily gulped the liquid inside. And then Annabeth was _moaning-_

Thalia looked at the cup in Andy's hand. It was seeping lilac smoke. Thalia couldn't hold in her gasp of contempt. She'd read about this. It was a magic spell that could only be cast by the most powerful shamans- the spell of desire.

Desire. Of course.

Andy took another sip of his drink- of his _potion. _His hand moved down and-

Thalia yanked her hands up. The rope was cut clean on the nail. She stuck her hand down her dress, into her tight corset, into the depths of her bosom and drew Killian's knife. She screamed something unintelligible and charged Andy.

"You rotten, perving mongrel, you bastard, you disgusting mutt_"

She heedlessly stabbed him through the gut, grabbed Annabeth, and pulled her to the front of the chariot. Thalia jumped out the front window of the chariot, onto the horse that was harnessed up. Thalia made sure Annabeth was on safely, then she cut the bindings that kept the horse chained to the chariot. Thalia used her hand to slap the horse's rump, and the horse neighed in contempt. "Don't make me whip you, horse," Thalia growled. She slapped the horse again, and it took off. Thalia grabbed the reigns and Annabeth grabbed Thalia's petite waist. The two girls, finally, were off, Annabeth in a mind- stricken daze.

They were ready to start a new life, with no delays.

Thalia could only hope that they were headed in the right direction.

* * *

Percy barged through the door, his hair full of moisture and his shirt soaked through with sweat. He ran every morning, but with summer fast approaching, it most definitely _not _the most suitable weather for exercise. Percy would rather swim laps every morning, but the closest pool was at school, and he tried to avoid that dreaded place as much as he could. He wouldn't walk to school every morning. Running was good enough.

He entered the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as he could while getting ready for the shower. He wasn't used to being quiet- his mother usually left for work hours before he got up, but Rachel was still asleep in his room. He didn't want to wake her up.

He showered quickly and threw on a pair of cotton trousers. It was too hot for a shirt, so he left his chest bare.

Percy walked into his bedroom and smiled down at Rachel's sleeping face. She was so innocently pretty, with her curly red hair untamed, her face pale and freckles prominent.

Percy climbed back into bed and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She snorted in her sleep and rolled so close to the edge of the bed Percy thought she was going to fall off. But, miraculously, she managed to stay on the mattress.

Another five minutes or so, and there was a knocking on the door. Rachel jolted up quickly, her back turned to Percy. She was rubbing her eyes and muttering things like, "What? Who? How- where the hell am I?"

Percy grinned and slipped his arms around her waist. "Morning, RED. Have a nice sleep, drooling all over my pillows?"

Rachel tensed for a moment, but soon caught on to the joke. "In your dreams, Jackson. It's your own drool _I'd_ be worried about."

The knocking sounded on the door again. Percy sighed and unwound his arms. "I should probably get that," he muttered, his face buried in Rachel's hair.

"You probably should," she agreed.

"In a minute…" Percy mumbled, pressing his lips to Rachel's.

Then there were thuds up the stairs. The sounds didn't quite register with Percy until it was too late. "Percy? Percy! I know you're here! Did you sleep in again- oh. Oh, sorry." The door to Percy's room had burst open so suddenly that he and Rachel hadn't separated fast enough.

Percy, blushing bright red, pushed Rachel away, then went to greet his best friend, who was standing awkwardly at the door, his fingers nervously fiddling with his set of reed pipes which were in his hands.

"Hey, man. Wasn't expecting you," Percy said to Grover.

"Wasn't expecting that, either," Grover mumbled under his breath, his own neck starting to flush.

"So, what's up?" Percy asked. Rachel was trying to sink into the duvet. Her face was still flaming red, so much so she put her brilliant hair to shame.

"Erm, I was wondering, if, you know, ah_"

"Please just get to the point," Percy said impatiently. Side effect of ADHD- a short attention span.

Grover cleared his throat. "I thought you might come with me to see the Shaman. I want her to enchant my reed pipes, so that when I play for Juniper_"

"Awwe, Grover's gone and got himself a girlfwiend!" Percy laughed.

Now it was Grover's turn to blush. "Shut it, Perce. She's not my girlfriend. And it's not like _you_ were so subtle about Rachel all those years you liked her_"

-A stifled snort from under the duvet-

"Alright, alright. I'll come. Just let me get a shirt on. Meet you at the Market place, at Old Oak?" Old Oak was a giant, sweeping oak tree that was centuries old and had been part of the village's lands for generations. It was located in the centre of the Market place, used as a navigation device. The markets were so huge- it was nice to have a point of orientation.

"Yeah, okay. See you, man." Grover scampered off.

Percy looked at Rachel. "I still have a minute. From where we left off, milady?" Percy held out a hand, bowing graciously. Rachel, laughing, took it. Percy yanked her off the bed and held her against his bare chest.

"Promise me we'll always be together." He murmured in her ear.

Rachel shivered, and it had nothing to do with her body temperature, which was already over heated in the high humidity. "Promise."

Percy slipped on his shirt and went to meet Grover at Old Oak.

**I know, you're probably ready to start planning my murder. Will I have to duck any flying obstacles thrown by angry fans? Percabeth is coming! Just be patient, my darlings. **

**Just a few things to clear up: Sagesse, Annabeth's middle name, which I made up. It means 'wisdom' in Greek; and Andrew Jabawaki is my OC. Like the characters of PJO, he will appear in some of my other stories, not necessarily a bad boy. I just needed a third character to fit the description, but I couldn't think of a PJO character, so I made my own. **

**To sum up: who's the Shaman? Will Thalia and Annabeth make it to Jupiter's Land safely?**

**Find out in Chapter 10!**

**Buh bye, petals! (For now)**


	10. Journey Through The Wasteland

**I'd like to thank these people for reviewing so far:**

**Amy's Mischievous Little Owl- **I thought Sagesse was Greek, but it could be French. I don't speak either language. Long as it means wisdom, I don't really care.

**Yeperdoodle**- the reviews are slowly climbing up. Thanks for liking!

**Arrivederci/ Anonemuss14- **which would you prefer to be called? Your review gave me lots of insight as to what readers are seeing and thinking. I like the format of your review, with praise, criticism and advice. I don't know if I CAN keep a story like this realistic, and my idea might be a little… out there, but I'll try my best. Please don't hesitate to point out any flaws in my writing, I like my work to be to the best of my ability.

**Bilboardcrabs- **the thing with Luke Castellan is coming up, don't worry. Now that I know what a slash pairing is, I can assure you one hundred percent that there are NO slash pairings in this story, or any other story I might write.

**Boomboomshark8**

**ButterflyFlyToMe- **My least favourite chapter as well… but Prachel is an important part of the story, you'll see why soon.

**Colts12broncos18**

**Frovey- **thanks! :) I hate boasting, and I don't want anyone to think that I'm boasting when I say I'm only thirteen, but fact is fact. How old do you think the average FF user is? My guess is fifteen to eighteen, maybe. I really don't know.

**MysteryGuest- **I wanted to do something a little different, it's why Annabeth and Percy aren't together straight away, and Percy loves Rachel first. No, the sleepover wasn't anything like _that. _Just an innocent sleepover. Thanks so much for showing your support towards my story! :)

**Codex**

**Katara43**

**Abertha- **thanks for answering my question about AU and slash pairings! I looked at your name, and thought I recognised it, then I realised that I'd seen it when you reviewed on my other story, _One In Thousands. _Pizza shapes are my favourite food! :)

**Name T.H.E- **I do kinda agree when you say the story is at a standstill. It didn't really turn out the way I wanted to, this story. But, as my first ever FanFic, I think it turned out quite well. Thanks for liking it anyway, however horrific it turns out to be.

**EmilyJackson- Hero- Haha, I'm back! No internet for two weeks was a terrible time, and I missed every one of my fans. It's good to be able to post again :)**

**Finally, onto the story!**

**Chapter 11:**

**Jupiter's Land**

Annabeth wasn't sure who she was more angry at- the boy, Andy, for taking advantage of her, or Beckendorf, for leaving her and Thalia on the side of the road, prey for any predator, man or beast.

Annabeth also felt woozy. That drink Andy had given her- the sweet blueberry juice that had been enchanted by the most powerful shaman to walk the earth- it had been delicious, but Annabeth had not considered side effects, not even been deterred by the fact that the ice cold drink was seeping lilac steam. Unusual for her, when she was usually so observant and doubting of strangers.

Holding fast to Thalia's waist, Annabeth felt freer than she had in six years. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, making her heart pound and her ears ring.

How long had they been riding now? Ten minutes? Twenty? Shouldn't they have come across some evidence of civilisation by now?

Annabeth rested her head on Thalia's bony shoulder, feeling dirty. Her body tingled where Andrew's snake- like fingers had touched her. She shuddered. And then another image flashed through her head- it was blurry, as her head had been all muddled by the potion, but she thought she remembered-

"Thalia," Annabeth said hesitantly. "Before, in the wagon, to get away, did you- did you _stab _Andy? With that guy's knife? With Killian's knife?"

Annabeth felt all of Thalia's back and shoulder muscles tense up.

"I don't want to talk about it," Thalia gritted her teeth, remembering the horrible feeling of hard steel slicing so easily into soft, exposed flesh. Like a knife into butter. Thalia squeezed her eyes shut against her shame. She wondered if the guy was still alive, suffering, in agony, as his mates hovered over him, unable to do anything but watch their friend die slowly from an open wound.

The hot sun beared down upon the girl's sweaty backs. They stopped next to a muddy oasis for five minutes to give the poor horse a break. Carrying two people on a stinker day like this? Thalia almost felt sorry for the beast.

They rode on.

A glint caught Annabeth's sharp eye.

She lifted her head lazily. And then her spirits were lifted drastically. "Thalia!" she shouted, shifting so much that the horse neighed in protest. "Thalia!"

Thalia grunted. She was a little miffed at Annabeth for letting Andrew- do things. And, yeah, Annabeth had been under the influence of a potion, but still. It was wrong. Gross.

"Thalia! Look!"

Annabeth pointed. "Do you think that that's the village? The one that Percy and Beckendorf mentioned?"

Thalia's eyes followed Annabeth's finger, and saw the unmistakable glint of civilisation in the distance. If Annabeth hadn't noticed that, they would have completely missed it, passed it by.

Thalia yanked the reigns and the horse snorted. "Come on, beast, move it!" The horse reluctantly obeyed.

Thalia steered the beast off the track and into the sparse vegetation. It was a complete dump out here, she thought.

Not really a desert, as the soil was moist and native trees still grew, but near enough to a desert. It was hot and the air was humid.

Thalia smacked the horse's rump and it whinnied and snorted. "Gods, I hate horses," she grumbled. Annabeth rested her forehead on Thalia's back.

"I feel like an idiot," she mumbled.

"Why?"

"My stupid dress. Do you see anyone else wearing a dress around here?"

"Hmm, let's see, well, that tree over there is wearing an outfit of slimy green moss, that sparkly rock that we passed just now is covered with_"

"Thalia," Annabeth interrupted. "I'm serious. These people hate me. The last thing I need is for them to see me wearing the castle insignia, while riding a horse that was stolen from _their _people."

Thalia ground her teeth in frustration. Annabeth was _such _a pessimist sometimes. She didn't reply.

As the horse trudged along, dust stirring up, bugs buzzing and biting, the village in the distance was growing in size as they got closer and closer.

Another ten minutes, and they had arrived at the large wooden gates of Jupiter's Land, tall and imposing on two young, lost girls.

Annabeth climbed off the horse, her backside aching immensely, and waddled over to the gates. Just as she was about to rap sharply to get the attention of the guards, a voice behind them said gruffly, "Can I help you ladies?"

Thalia nearly fell off the horse in momentary fright. Annabeth turned and saw a man of about Thalia's age approaching them warily, spear hefted.

"We wish to enter," Annabeth said, her voice shaky. She subconsciously backed away.

"By law, you are prohibited entry to Jupiter's Land until you provide evidence of your cause here. Bound by village rules, I'm afraid."

Thalia glanced at the man suspiciously, slipping down off the large horse, which was foaming at the mouth and sweating in the summery heat. "What kind of evidence?" she asked, frowning. "Isn't being here, asking kindly for entry, enough? Search us, you will find no harmful instruments."

Thalia could have slapped herself in her stupidity. Killian's knife! It was hidden down her bosom! She flushed blood red at the thought of what she would have to do.

The man nudged Thalia with his spear. She cringed.

"Um, sir. May I rephrase? I do have a weapon to declare," she said, biting her lip.

"Please put it on the ground in front of you. Your honesty is greatly appreciated." His replies seemed almost rehearsed.

Thalia once again blushed deeply. "Excuse me, sir," she mumbled, turning around and quickly stuffing her hand down the bodice of her dress and throwing the knife on the ground. Annabeth stifled a snort.

The man bent down and picked up the blade between his fingers. "Where did you get this?" he asked, slowly straightening up.

"What's it to you?" Thalia challenged, forgetting to whom she was speaking.

The man frowned at Thalia. "This particular blade is number 459 of a batch of five hundred, custom made in _our _forges. Once again I ask you: how did this blade be to be in your possession?" The man's voice became slightly threatening.

Thalia opened her mouth, completely stumped as to what to say, when another voice called from over the gates: "Oi, Connor, Beck's wondering what's taking so long! Who's that?"

The man, Connor, glanced up at his mate in annoyance. "No one of importance, Travis. Tell Beck that I'll be only a short while."

Annabeth cleared her throat and stepped forward. "Are you satisfied now? We are innocent travellers, in need of a place to stay for a couple of nights. Honestly, you'd think we were criminals on the run from the castle_"

"Ah," Thalia interrupted. "We passed the test, didn't we?"

Connor stared at them, indecision in his eyes. "I have a bad feeling in my gut…" Thalia's keen hearing picked up Connor's muttering. "I'll bring you to the village's leader, Chiron Brunner. He can then decide what to do with you. Come with me, and I can introduce you to the village.

**I'm sorry. Boring chapter. Real action starts in the next chapter. Percy and Annabeth haven't had a proper meeting yet, have they?...**

**Also, is anyone interested in being my Beta Reader? Since I've only been on here for a little longer than two months, I'm still kinda new. How does this whole Beta Reader process work? Isn't it like, before I post, I get somebody to check my work and they point out any mistakes? My little sister offered to do it, but… I'd probably trust my inanimate bed to do a better job, no offense to her…**

**So, please don't forget to review, and maybe check out my new story, ****_Last Wish, _****which is basically the Final battle of the Giant War. Percy dies, and his last wish is for Annabeth to live a long and happy life with someone else. She never stops thinking of him, though, and she loves him forever. I'd appreciate it if you left a review on that one, as well.**

**Thanks for reading, **

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana :)**


	11. New Home- For Now

**Hi. Thanks so much to ButterflyFlyToMe, who was the first person to volunteer their services as my BetaReader! Hooray to you!**

**Thanks to those of you who reviewed, and I'm sorry to everyone else who offered to be my BetaReader, but first in, first served! **

**On with the story.**

**Chapter 12:**

**New Home- For Now**

"I understand that you are the two women that a team of our people rescued from a tower that was ablaze," the man in the wheelchair said emotionlessly.

"You understand correctly," Annabeth retorted.

Thalia shot her a warning glance. Annabeth's rash mouth had brought them enough trouble already.

The man, who had introduced himself as Chiron Brunner, Jupiter's Land's leader, was studying Annabeth warily.

Annabeth raised her chin and stared right back into his eyes.

Thalia looked from Annabeth to Chiron, observing the silent conversation they were having.

Finally Annabeth looked away, staring at the floor.

Chiron cleared his throat and smiled kindly. "I'm sure you are both weary and in need of rest. I can arrange accommodation for you, and food. You can work for it tomorrow. We are quite in need of a new seamstress, and the public loom is getting dusty. I assume you both are trained in the art of sewing?"

"Um, well, actually_" Annabeth tried to tell him that she had never even _touched _a loom, let alone worked one, but he ignored her.

"Come, you two. It is tradition to have a public gathering in the Arena when we have newcomers. And I'm sure the village would be _very _interested in meeting the princess."

"How_" Annabeth stared at him.

Chiron chuckled, looking at her with amusement in his eyes. Thalia nudged Annabeth, pointing to the castle insignia on the hem.

"Oh." Annabeth blushed. "That reminds me, may I change into a pair of overalls, trousers, anything but a dress?"

Chiron nodded, smiling. He lifted his head and called, "Ella! Can we have a pair of men's overalls, please?"

A red haired, skinny woman appeared in the doorway, holding a bundle of faded beige material. She handed it to Annabeth and scurried back out the door.

Annabeth took the overalls gratefully, looking around. "Where may I change?"

Chiron pointed to a doorway that Thalia hadn't noticed. Annabeth bowed slightly and took the doorway, leaving Thalia alone with Chiron.

"Miss Thalia," Chiron started.

"No," Thalia said. "Just Thalia. I'm only a maid to the princess."

"Okay, then, Thalia. I'd like to know how you came to know the location of this village?" Thalia shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. She couldn't lie to that kindly face.

"Well, um, after Beckendorf left us_"

"Dobbing on me now, are we?" And suddenly the man himself was there in the room, arms crossed, a glare on his roughly handsome face.

Thalia stood up and twirled around, anger flaring in her eyes. "You!" she shot. "You have nerve to show your face to me!"

Beckendorf stared woodenly at her. "I don't know what you're talking about, girl. I don't need nerve to show my face to you. I did what I had to do."

Thalia threw back her head and laughed in amazement. "What you had to do," she echoed. "Do you know of three boys named Andrew, Christopher and Ethan?" she asked.

Beckendorf's face morphed into one that portrayed darkness. "How did those names come to taint your tongue, girl?" his voice was deeper and graver than normal.

Thalia gulped. "First off, Mister, my name is not _girl_. My name is Thalia. Second, why does it matter to you? Please don't lie to my face; I know those names bear meaning."

Beckendorf sighed, his face clearing of any emotion. He sank down onto a wooden chair.

Thalia noticed Chiron watching with an intense expression. Just then, Annabeth opened the door and came out wearing the overalls. Her waist- long fair hair was brushed out, curling at the ends. Her grey eyes sparkled, until she laid eyes on the large man inhabiting a lot of the space in the room.

She shrank down a bit, trying her hardest not to be noticed. If Beckendorf noticed her, he didn't say anything.

"Those three boys…" Beckendorf started, trailing off. He was staring out the window, past all the farms and mud- brick buildings, past the crowds and the tents of the markets, past the distant hills… he seemed to be looking beyond the land itself… into the past…

**Beckendorf's Flashback**

_Charles Beckendorf had never been happier. He had finally built up the guts to ask his dream girl out- Silena Bearegard. She was so exquisitely kind and pretty, with those big blue eyes, that long, luscious black hair… _

_They were happy together for two years. Beckendorf had been thinking about proposing. And then those three boys came._

_"Charles Beckendorf, loser, and Silena Beauregard, blue blood." Ethan Nakamura laughed one day. "Like they're gonna last."_

_Andrew Jabawaki continue, "She'll betray him one day. I heard that the handsome lord, what's 'is name? Luke Castellan?"_

_"Yeah, that's a one," Christopher Rodriguez chimed in._

_"Yeah, I heard that Luke Castellan was courting her. It's not like she _really _likes Beckendorf."_

_Charles had been walking back from his girlfriend's house when he heard the boys' conversation. He froze on the spot, dread settling in his stomach. Could it be true? No… They're just gossiping… He assured himself. But a hint of doubt always remained in his mind every time he saw Silena after that._

**Flashback Off**

Beckendorf finished his tale with: "I always doubted Silena after that. Me and those boys, we never got along. Ruthless gossips, nasty rumour spreaders, disgusting pervs- you gotta hate 'em."

Thalia studied him. She believed that he was telling the truth. She cleared her throat and glanced at Annabeth. "Beckendorf," she started.

Annabeth quickly walked over and clutched Thalia's arm. "You sure?" she whispered uncertainly. "I don't really trust him after_"

"I got this," Thalia reassured her friend. "Look, I know you don't trust my friend Annabeth and I. But you have to believe us. We mean no harm to you, nor your village. And, just so you know, we encountered Christopher, Andrew and Ethan on the way here."

Beckendorf's head snapped up, and his eyes locked on Annabeth, who was blushing so hard that Beckendorf guessed the story before it was even told.

"They messed with you, didn't they?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"They gave me a potion!" Annabeth burst out. "It was an accident, I didn't mean to let them_"

Beckendorf gazed at her with mixed emotions in his dark eyes- pity, confusion, and indecision.

Thalia rested her hand lightly on Annabeth's arm.

The blond dropped her head. "I'm so sorry, Beckendorf," she whispered in shame. "I'm sorry that I chose not to marry Luke Castellan_" Thalia saw Beckendorf's expression turn deadly. "And I'm sorry that the war started because of that. I didn't mean for a war to start. I just wanted a say in my future_"

Just then the door burst open and a black haired figure darted in. "Beck – oh, oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, but_"

"Spit it out, Jackson," Beckendorf chuckled.

"Bandits!" the Jackson kid gasped. "Bandits are attacking. And_"

And just then the kid seemed to notice that Beckendorf was not alone. He nodded to Chiron, and saw Annabeth and Thalia.

Annabeth gasped.

It was Percy.

**Cliffhanger, much? Oh well, that means you'll have to keep reading, doesn't it? **

**Has anyone read the ****_Graceling _****series by Kristin Cashore? I really recommend it, if you're looking for new reading material! Amazing! It's a trilogy that goes: ****_Graceling, Fire, Bitterblue. _**

**Also, is there any way to make a new book for FF? I really want to write FanFiction for the ****_Graceling _****series, but it's not listed. I'd really appreciate it if somebody could help.**

**Just to warn you, there will be some interesting twists coming up in later chapters, things that you have probably never seen before. **

**Have we introduced Mr di Angelo to the story yet? No? Look forward to meeting him soon…**


	12. The Shaman

**Hi. How was your Christmas? Mine was awesome! I got a computer, so that means I can update quicker.**

**Also, sorry if the story's starting to get boring. I'm trying to speed it up, but- well, let's just say that this story didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. It progressing so damned slow! Even I'm getting annoyed. **

**And I have a question- anyone is free to answer through either PM or review. Okay, so, I tried to send this chapter to my BetaReader, but I can't find ANY button in DocX that says 'new message' or 'send' or even 'attach file' so that I can send the chapter. Advice, anyone?**

**Chapter 13:**

**The Shaman**

Grover wasn't a fighter. In fact, he was a bit of a wimp when it came to fighting. So you couldn't blame him when the bandits attacked, and he hid in his basement and recalled the events of the day. Visiting the Shaman with Percy, the enchanted reed pipes- it all whirled through his head so fast that he hadn't even _realised _that his village was under attack until the gong was sounding and Percy was racing past him to get Chiron and Beckendorf.

**Flashback:**

_The two boys scoured the market place for the hidden tent of the Shaman. When you hear the word Shaman, you probably think: old, haggard, powerful, mystical. _

_The Shaman was actually a young girl of fifteen or so. She had long, black hair that shone like diamonds in the bright sun, emerald eyes that swirled like tornadoes and were deep as a mountain billabong, and super- naturally white teeth that, if you looked close up, were slightly pointed, like a vampire's._

_Nobody liked to be too close to the girl due to these strange little differences._

_The Shaman also gave those trying to find her a hard time. She dirtied their sight, hid herself from their view up until the last straw, and then her little tent would magically appear just as the seeker would give up hope of _ever _finding her._

_So, while Grover and Percy were scurrying madly from tent top tent, the Shaman was giggling in delight while she whirled herself from place to place. Just when the boys were about to give up, her deer- pelt tent appeared right in front of the pair._

_"Enter, boys," her voice floated out of the tent. Grover found he couldn't exactly place the pitch- it sounded like three different people talking at once- the deep voice of a man, the normal pitch of a teenage girl, and the high squeak of a small child._

_Percy and Grover exchanged wary glances before entering the tent. "I'm blaming you if anything happens," Percy muttered to his best friend._

_"Why me?" Grover whined._

_"'Cause you dragged me into this mess, G- man."_

_"I can't do this alo_"_

_"Shush!" Percy hissed, standing erect. "She's coming!"_

_And suddenly there was a girl in front of them. She was exactly as the tales had described her mother- tall, with an evil glint in her eye, and a dark, ancient aura about her. _

_"How can I help you two?" The Shaman threw back her head and laughed. "Please forgive my inhospitality. I rarely get visitors."_

_Grover whimpered under his breath as the girl fixed her gaze on him. Percy patted Grover's back._

_"I am this village's one and only Shaman," the girl started in an attempt to ease Grover's uncomfortableness. "My mother was the magic deity Hecate, immortal being of magic. My older immortal half sister was the famous Circe. Surely you have heard of her magnificent deeds?"_

_Grover nodded, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. _

_The Shaman waved her hand and three chairs, a coffee table and a tray of butterscotch cookies appeared. Unseen hands pushed Grover and Percy into the chairs, while invisible servants served the snacks._

_"What do you wish of me, Mr Underwood?" she asked softly, her eyes boring holes into Grover's. It didn't even occur to Grover to wonder how the Hades she knew his name._

_"Ugh," the boy muttered. He dug through his coat pocket, and brought out a set of reed pipes. A faint blush crept up his neck as he held the hand carved wooden instrument out to the Shaman. Percy's fingers tapped impatiently against the armrest on his chair. Grover shot him a look and Percy stopped, grinning sheepishly._

_"What have we here?" The Shaman mused, turning the pipes over in her fingers. She glanced up with an amused expression. Either she was a brilliant actress, or she really had no idea how much she was intimidating Grover. _

_"Ugh, um, they're reed pipes," Grover stuttered._

_The sage's face morphed into an expression of annoyed agitation, but it was gone in an instant. Her blinding smile was overly large and grotesque._

_Percy was uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, wanting Grover to hurry up and get to the point._

_"I'm quite aware that this is a set of reed pipes, Grover. I merely meant, what do you wish me to do with these?"_

_"Enchant them. I – I suppose you could say I have a crush on a girl." Grover's face was on fire. Percy bit his lip. It was all he could do to stop himself from bursting into laughter at his friend's mortified face. "I want to play for her, but my skill needs some improvement."_

_"Understatement," Percy muttered. He was ignored._

_The woman looked up, the unnatural smile wiped off her face (thank god, Percy thought). She exhaled sharply._

_"Very well." Grover looked surprised that it had been that easy. The Shaman breathed on the pipes, and muttered an ancient incantation under breath. A gentle breeze wafted through the tent. Grover shivered. He'd heard about the Language of Magic; about how even a mere word spoken of it, and an explosion that rocked the world could occur. He shuddered. He didn't want to blow into his pipes and some ancient magic messed with his life._

_The Shaman seemed to be reading his mind. She chuckled. "My practise of magic is completely safe. No doubters, please." Then her tone turned serious. "You _do _realise the price that has to be paid for such magic as this?"_

_Grover gulped. Price? That didn't sound very good. "What kind of price?" he asked, dreading the answer._

_The Shaman laughed. "I'm flattered, truly, Grover. I appreciate your high regard for my skills, but even _I _cannot read the tapestry that the Fates knit, known as the future. All I can tell you is that you will come to regret your actions in years to come."_

_Percy and Grover exchanged glances. They made a silent agreement. It was time to get out of there. Now._

_Grover started to get up. "Um, thank you, er… My Lady?"_

_The Shaman waved her hand like before, and Grover flinched, expecting a crow to pop out of thin air and start pecking his eyes out. No such thing happened. "Oh, please. You can call me Lou Ellen. None of this 'My Lady'. That's my mother's title. But, I suspect that you must be off."_

_Grover nodded, extending his hand towards Percy. Percy took it and pulled himself up. His palms were sweaty. Both boys were eager to be out of that suffocating tent, and away from this creepy woman with her even creepier grin._

_"Pleasure," Grover said, trying hard to sound believable. The Shaman, Lou Ellen, grasped Grover's hand in a firm handshake, her fingers deathly cold and palms raw and callused. _

_"Truly a pleasure, Grover Underwood," Lou Ellen's face contorted freakishly. She might have been wrinkling her face against a disgusting smell. Or it could have been a smile. _

_The Shaman nodded curtly towards Percy, and he waved back. The two boys turned and tried not to race towards the tent flap._

**Flashback Off**

Now, all Grover need to do was find his love interest- a sweet girl by the name of Juniper- and play his newly magicked pipes.

Well, after the village was safe from the bandits, of course.

* * *

As Percy and Grover strolled through the village, chatting about nothing in particular, Grover studied his reed pipes suspiciously.

"I don't really trust her," he muttered, inspecting the instruments for any sign of magic. Nothing.

"Neither," Percy replied. "And to think that –" But he didn't get to finish his sentence. Because just then, he saw a mob of dark- shrouded figures approach the outer walls via horseback.

They obviously had a shaman with them, because only magic had that- how to describe it? Poisonous?- smell to it.

There was only one word that came to his mind.

"Bandits," he said. Percy looked at Grover and came to a split second decision. "Get to safety, G- man. I'll get Chiron and Beckendorf. Be safe."

And then he was dashing off in the direction of the Big House, leaving Grover clutching his precious reed pipes to his chest.

Percy bounded up the wooden stairs leading to the porch of the Big House, bashing on the door.

When nobody answered after a moment, he barged straight in.

He saw Beckendorf, and immediately started blabbering, before he realised that Beckendorf was in the middle of talking. "Beck – oh, oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, but_"

"Spit it out, Jackson," Beckendorf chuckled.

"Bandits!" Percy gasped, quite out of breath after hi mad dash across the village. "Bandits are attacking. And_"

And just then Percy noticed exactly whowas in the room with Beckendorf. He nodded to Chiron, then his gaze landed on two girls. One had long blond hair. The other was a brunette.

A memory came rushing back- skinny arms wrapped around his abdomen, long, curly hair blowing in his face, getting tangled in his mouth, the wind pushing at his face, the adrenaline of the ride, the pure thrill of feeling Blackjack flying underneath him- and it hit Percy.

This blond girl standing before him, the girl who had had her arms wrapped around _him, _a mere peasant boy, was the heir to the Olympian throne- Princess Annabeth Chase.

But Percy didn't have time to dwell on that fact, because suddenly Beckendorf came alive. He sprang out of his seat and grabbed Percy's arm, pulling him out of the building, yabbering on about something to do with gathering the men.

Percy threw one last glance over his shoulder as his older mate dragged him along. And his eyes happened to meet a pair of startled, curious, wary and very beautiful grey eyes.

Percy shook his head and focused on the task at hand. He had some outlaws to dispose of.

**Thoughts? All reviews (apart from flamers) appreciated. And please, please answer my question from the first AN.**

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana**


	13. Battle Axe

**The story should be starting to get interesting right about here. I'd like to thanks my BetaReader, traversing, for editing this first. **

**Thanks for all the reviews, everyone :)**

**Also, just a warning, this chapter may be a bit graphic. I think you might like the end, though.**

**Chapter 14:**

**Battle Axe**

This wasn't just any bandit raid, Percy soon realised. The bandit crew had a powerful Shaman among them, who was generating some sort of protective magical shield over the group.

Arrows flew harmlessly over the heads of the bandit group, and every shot miraculously missed its designated target.

A large, intimidating horse led the way, and the horse's rider–a vicious-looking man with many scars and ripped muscles–chopped down anything and anyone who got in his way. Mothers scrambled to get their children off the busy streets, making way for the merciless leader.

He cleared a path for himself through the ruckus using his double- headed battle axe–a mighty weapon that only the best warriors could wield, as it was a solid weapon with weight, length and sharpened steel on its side. The monstrosity was meant purely for destruction–it could cleave through a skull no problem, as Percy saw against his will when a brave old man tried to swipe his grandchild off the road before she got trampled.

All Percy saw was the glint of the steel as it flashed in the sun, an arc of devastation, and the sickening thud of a headless body falling to the ground. Red liquid spurted high in the air and bathed the child in her grandfather's blood.

Percy winced. He wanted to run right over there and chop that cruel man down with Riptide, but Beckendorf cautioned him with his eyes and rested a beefy hand lightly on his shoulder.

Percy knew that if he were to disobey his elder, it would backfire on him. Badly.

He gritted his teeth and watched as Scar Face and his minions stopped in the market square. They appeared to be lost. Nobody was volunteering to fight, so what should the bandits do now?

"Now?" Percy asked Beckendorf quietly.

Beckendorf shook his head. "Wait."

So they waited. Finally, the leader got fed up with the silence, and shouted, "Well? Send out your best warriors!"

Percy just about charged right then, his impulsivity getting the better of him, but Beckendorf tightened his grip on Percy's shoulder. "Heed. I said wait. We'll see what he wants first."

Beckendorf stood, hefting his spear on his left hand and shield on the right. His broad shoulders rippled with muscle as he made his way to where the bandits stood.

"Ooh, a volunteer?" Scar Face sneered. "About time."

Percy was so tense that his grip on is sword hilt was turning his hand white. He rested one hand on the ground–for better leverage if he had to suddenly spring up.

"What business do you have here?" Beckendorf's harsh words rang across the quiet, strained atmosphere.

"Why, can't a man have a bit of fun once in a while?" Scar Face cackled.

Beckendorf flexed his biceps. Percy knew that this was a sign of his aggravation.

"Leave this village now, and nobody gets hurt," Beckendorf's tone turned threatening.

Scar Face laughed incredulously and swung his battle axe. "Leave? But the fun hasn't even started, man!"

Percy fought the urge to chop off Scar Face's head now.

But that wasn't meant to be. Because just then, the little girl who had lost her grandfather to Scar Face's battle axe ran out in front of the leader's massive horse. Her face was bright red, and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying.

Percy could see her mother try to catch her child, but a man held her back.

"I hate you!" the little girl screamed, racing towards the battle- axe- wielding man. "You killed my Papa! I _hate _you!"

With a sudden chill, Percy realized the child was Rachel's cousin Rubiana.

Scar Face stared down at the young, screaming child with no emotion. "She has nerve," he said without emotion. "Kill her."

The man raised his axe, but just as he was about to strike, a voice rang out across the market place. "NO!"

Percy's head whipped towards the familiar voice.

It was Rachel.

But the battle axe was already in action.

Rachel barrelled towards her young cousin and shoved her out of the way.

All the hairs on the back of Percy's head stood up. "Rachel!" he cried, running forward, but it was too late. The axe was already embedded halfway through her neck.

Percy was stunned for a moment. He stood still as Scar Face drew his blood-stained axe from Rachel's now limp neck.

Then, before he knew it, and despite Beckendorf's warning glances, Percy screamed in rage and flung himself at the man who had murdered the girl he loved. The momentum knocked the man off his horse, and suddenly Percy and the man were in close combat. The man's long handled axe was no use in these circumstances.

Percy slashed and lunged like never before. He fought like a wildcat, kicking, spitting and screaming–anything to keep Scar Face down while Percy delivered the final blow with Riptide.

The group of bandits stared in awe at Percy as he stood, yanking Riptide free of his victim's torso.

"Well?" he roared to the warriors. "Kill _them_!"

While Beckendorf rallied the troops to dispose of the bandits, Percy ran to Rachel's side.

He knew it was hopeless. She was too far gone. "Rachel," he breathed, smoothing the red hair back from her bloody neck.

Her breathing was shallow. Blood ran in a continuous stream from her wound.

"Percy," she whispered, her voice impossibly quiet. Percy strained to hear what could be her last words. "I- I'm sorry…"

"Shh," he took her face between his hands. He was oblivious to the fighting going on around them. "You're gonna be okay. Just stay with me. Rachel, do you hear me? _Stay._"

Rachel's breathing hitched. She hiccupped. Her chest convulsed in pain. "Percy," she whispered again. "Love–you."

Tears streamed down Percy's face. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. He knew it was hopeless.

"L-love you too," Percy whispered.

Rachel squeezed his hand one last time, ever so slightly. He squeezed back with all the strength he possessed.

Then her hand became limp in his. Her eyes glazed over, lost their light. Percy cried out, shaking her hand.

"Rachel!" he yelled, his voice breaking. "No! Medic! Help!"

He glanced around wildly, desperation in his eyes. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Percy," a deep voice said quietly. "I'm sorry, man. She's gone."

Percy fell to his knees and sobbed as Beckendorf hugged him, displaying a rare show of affection.

It wasn't usually in Beckendorf's nature to present his feelings like this. But he knew what it was like to lose someone important.

* * *

Annabeth felt terrible. While Percy and Beckendorf and everybody else had been fighting a group of bandits outside, she and Thalia had been sitting on a comfortable couch inside the Big House, sharing tea with Chiron.

Annabeth felt a strange desire inside of her. She wanted to know what it was like to wield a weapon. To hold a dagger in her hand, and to be the reason that a life had been spared.

She had watched as the red- headed girl–Rachel, she recalled–had been struck down by the big man's battle axe.

And though Annabeth had no clue_ who_ the girl was, she felt this desire burning through her veins–to protect what was helpless.

For so long, she herself had been helpless, sitting at the mercy of her ruthless father. It was time to step up and become a woman worthy of the title of 'noble'. No more running. No more fear.

This was to be her goal.

She would get over her irrational fear of men. Or, at least, get to the bottom of it.

However, when the boy Percy ran through the door, tears streaking his face, blood on his hands, Annabeth felt a stirring inside of her.

_No more fear_, she told herself firmly, sitting up straighter.

But, for some reason, she had a feeling that it wasn't fear that was messing with her insides.

**Ah, the first stirrings of Percabeth. Is this chapter more to your liking? Apart from, you know, Rachel's gruesome death? (Sorry to those of you who like Rachel. I don't actually mind her, but she had to die for this story to work.)**

**I won't update till we make 75 REVIEWS! That's six reviews. Not too hard, considering how many views this story gets.**

**Until next time,**

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana**


	14. The Price That Had To Be Paid

**Hey, everyone! I got 77 reviews! Cool! THANKYOU TO EVERYONE WHO FAVOURITED, FOLLOWED OR REVIEWED. MUCH APPRECIATED!**

**I'm sorry it took so long to update. My mum banned me from my computer because apparently I'm getting too 'addicted' to FanFiction.**

**Ahem.**

**Chapter 15:**

**The Price That Had To Be Paid**

Percy was absolutely heartbroken. Rachel, his childhood best friend, dead. Heartlessly killed by a ruthless man. He shuddered as he remembered how easily that axe had sliced open her throat… like she was composed of warm butter.

He tried to wipe the image out of his mind. Instead, he focused on the matter at hand- the Grey Eyed one was back, as well as her feisty friend Thalia.

Percy slumped in the corner, head in hands as Beckendorf, Chiron and Thalia conversed quietly. The Princess was silent throughout the conversation.

Percy looked up once when he heard his name, and instead, he met Annabeth's eyes. Those grey eyes that analysed him, undermined all his deepest fears and secrets, reading him like a book.

He found himself looking away, scowling.

As he glared out the window at the beautiful poinsettia tree that had taken root beside the Big House a century ago, the red flowers burned into Percy's mind like laser beams. The blood red petals resembled the blood spurting from Rachel's throat too much for Percy's liking.

He looked away, his eyes stinging.

He wasn't aware of the time passing until he felt a solid hand on his shoulder. "Percy," a deep voice, unmistakeably Beckendorf's, said.

Percy started, grunted, looking down. "What." His voice was flat.

"We're leaving. C'mon, I'll take you home. I don't trust you alone." Beckendorf's voice was kindly, maybe even fond, but the look in his eyes when Percy glanced up was obvious- Beckendorf was adamant about not leaving Percy alone.

The boy sighed and ran his hand through his hair, muttering, "Fine."

He stood up slowly and followed Beckendorf out the door, looking back once to find an empty room. The two girls and Chiron weren't there.

He shrugged. Not his problem.

* * *

If you asked Annabeth what the discussion between Thalia, Beckendorf and Chiron was about, she honestly wouldn't have a clue. Instead, she was studying Percy. It was hard to believe that just two days prior, this boy had rescued her from the tower she had been imprisoned in.

He now had the rights to claim her as his wife, and a reward from Annabeth's father. Even if Percy _did _try to claim the reward, Annabeth wasn't sure whether her father would even remember the deal he had proposed over six years ago.

The guy looked downright miserable. Annabeth didn't blame him. He had watched his girlfriend die a gruesome death before his eyes.

He met her eyes once and Annabeth felt a chill go through her. His green eyes were bloodshot and puffy. His gaze seemed to go straight through her, as if he didn't see her. Before she could determine his true regard, he was turning his head away again, scowling out the window.

Annabeth rested her cheek on her knee, staring at the back of Percy's head. His black hair was carelessly unkempt. His skin wasn't so pale that he was white, but he wasn't so tan that it looked healthy.

Finally the conversation dispersed, and Annabeth realised that she had no inkling of an idea of what had been said.

Percy still hadn't turned around, obviously lost in thought.

"Hey, Annabeth," Thalia said.

At the mention of her name, Annabeth tuned back in. "I'm here," she said absentmindedly. Then she realised what she had said, and quickly corrected, "I mean, yes?"

"Chiron has an offer for both of us, but I'll only accept if you put some serious thought into it."

She nodded, gesturing for Thalia to continue.

"Would you be willing to let Chiron adopt us? Like, we live here, and work for our meals?"

Annabeth sucked in a sharp breath.

"You don't have to give me an answer straight away, my dear," Chiron interjected. "Just consider it."

"Uh… okay. I'll consider it." Annabeth nodded dazedly. "Yes, I'll definitely consider it."

Chiron chuckled at Annabeth's vagueness. "You may go now. Ella will draw you a bath, and lay out fresh clothes for you. You begin work in a day or so, depending on how long you want to rest."

Annabeth smiled in gratitude, and she and Thalia ambled into the wash rooms, eager for a proper bath.

Annabeth only threw one look over her shoulder at Percy, who was still staring out the window. She sighed, sympathy for him filling her heart.

But all thoughts of him vanished when she saw the steam rising from the hot bath that was waiting for her.

Once she'd entered the scalding hot water, she felt like it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, she was finally cleansed of the dirt her imprisonment had inflicted upon her.

She sighed in contentment and leaned her head back, at long last being able to relax.

* * *

That night, as Percy lay restlessly in bed, his eyes wide and alert, he recounted his time with the Shaman, trying to keep his mind off Rachel's gory death.

He hoped Grover put those reed pipes to good use, that Juniper would finally notice how much Grover liked her, and maybe her feelings would even be reciprocated.

As he mulled over every word that had been uttered in Lou Ellen's tent, he gasped and jolted up. A particular sentence had now burned itself into his mind.

Percy started shaking. Could it be true? Had Rachel died because of something as insignificant as Grover wanting a girlfriend?

_The Shaman's tone turned serious. "You _do _realise the price that has to be paid for such magic as this?"_

_Grover gulped. Price? That didn't sound very good. "What kind of price?" he asked, dreading the answer._

_The Shaman laughed. "I'm flattered, truly, Grover. I appreciate your high regard for my skills, but even _I _cannot read the tapestry that the Fates knit, known as the future. All I can tell you is that you will come to regret your actions in years to come."_

Percy bit his lip so hard it drew blood. He clenched his fists in an attempt to stop the trembling, to no avail.

Regret for past actions flooded through his head.

_A price that has to be paid._

Yes, the price truly had been paid, Percy thought bitterly as he laid his head back down on his pillow.

He fell asleep to the sound of the Shaman's heartless cackle reverberating through his fretful mind.

**There we go. How was it?**

**It's stupid, really, but I've been experiencing a severe case of writers' block, even though the entire plan is right in front of me. **

**Please tell me your opinions- though no flamers, thanks. First FanFiction, remember? **

**Thanks to all my fans who have been faithful in their reading so far, to all those who have either reviewed, favourite or followed and generally been good to me even if this story isn't my best work.**

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana :)**


	15. The Sewing Machine

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I just realised that I have not got one flamer ****at all****! Huge relief!**

**Chapter 16:**

**The Sewing Machine **

"How do you work this stupid thing?" Thalia grumbled as she and Annabeth sat at the communal loom room. A mound of clothes in need of mending sat before them.

"How would I know?" Annabeth retorted, lifting a brown hunting jerkin from the pile and inspecting it for the rip. The tear extended from the right shoulder, down the seam. "You're the maid."

"I wasn't a _sewing _maid! I was a _prison _maid!" Thalia said hotly.

Annabeth dropped her clenched fists to her lap, staring down. "You had a choice to come with me into the tower, and you did so by your own leave. Don't bring this back on me, Thalia."

"If you had just said yes to Luke Castellan's marriage proposal—"

Annabeth stood abruptly. The torn garment fell to the floor. "Don't you _dare _bring _him _into this, Thalia!" she shouted, angry tears brimming in her eyes. _Oh, I hate how anger makes me weep, _she thought. "I was _twelve_. _Twelve, _Thalia. Would you have agreed at that age?"

"Yes!" Thalia yelled, standing also. "I would have, Annabeth! There was no need to be rebellious for your own leisure—"

"Now you're starting to sound like Beckendorf," Annabeth grumbled, crossing her arms.

Thalia's raised arms fell limply to her sides. Her mouth opened and closed.

The two girls eyed each other. Thalia then noticed Annabeth's tears. Her face softened and she said, "I'm sorry, Annabeth. I probably wouldn't have accepted a stranger's proposal at age twelve, either. What I said was out of line."

"Yes, it was," Annabeth agreed.

The two sat back down in their seats, still pondering the mystery of how to use the loom.

**Page Break**

"Come on, Percy," Sally Jackson chided gently to her son. "You have to eat."

Percy continued to gaze out the window, a sullen look on his face. His hair was dishevelled. His skin was pale and sickly. His eyes were hooded and a dark, dangerous green.

"Percy. I know you're in depression about Rachel's death, but she wouldn't want you to chastise yourself forever about it. Please, honey. Eat."

Sally held the bowl of broth and bread out to Percy. He shook his head no, pushing it away. "Don't force me to eat, mum," he said, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper. "I'm not hungry."

Sally sighed and stood, leaving the meal in front of him. "Suit yourself, then," she said and left, throwing one last sad glance over her shoulder.

**Page Break**

Percy stared out the window. He wasn't staring at anything in particular. Just staring. Until he caught sight of the weaving house. Through the large, bay windows, he could see a blond and a brunette. They appeared to be arguing. Arms flew wild, faces red, chests heaving.

He focused on the blond first. Her hair was long and blond and curly. Like a princess's. And then it dawned on him- this girl was Princess Annabeth.

Looking at the princess, he felt a pang of anger shoot through him.

When Beckendorf had made this argument, Percy had defended her. Now, he only felt fury boiling in his veins.

The princess had denied her duty to the Royal House. She had not married Luke Castellan for a truce to be negotiated between the two lands- no matter how scandalous and disgusting the man had been. A war had started. Bandits had taken advantage of the unstable monarchy. Raiding parties were formed. Murderers and outlaws ran wild.

And because of this, Rachel had been killed.

Percy's knuckles turned white as he clutched the bench in front of him. His dark bangs fell in front of his face as he glared at the princess. His normally pleasant sea green eyes darkened and narrowed to slits.

He couldn't sit still any longer- action had to be taken. He attached Riptide to his belt, stood, and stalked out the door, the image of a golden halo of curls burned into his mind.

**Page Break**

"I was not the last one to touch the thing! _You _were!" Thalia shouted.

"No, I was across the room tending to the repaired clothes when it happened!" Annabeth replied tartly, her cheeks reddening with anger. Her golden curls quivered with nervous energy.

"You were not! I saw you- you started messing with the weave on the lots when I warned you—"

"Your eyesight has betrayed you, Thalia. I clearly remember _you _handling that machine when it happened." Annabeth voice was low and calm. Thalia knew that it was merely the calm before the storm- Annabeth was furious.

And what were the girls arguing about, you might wonder? The loom had ceased to work for some unknown reason. Desperate to not be found at fault when Ella came to check on their progress with the torn clothes, both had been blatantly stating reasons why the other was at fault.

"Girls?" a small voice floated in from the doorway. The red headed, sickly looking servant Ella poked her head in the door. "Is all well?"

"No," Thalia stated darkly, throwing Annabeth a hard glare. "Annabeth has broken the loom with her clumsiness and cluelessness."

"No, Miss Ella, I did not. We are unsure of who it was. Perhaps the loom stopped working because of old age?"

Ella walked forward and inspected the sewing machine. Her brow creased in concern.

"See, look what you've done, Princess Annabeth. Clueless as you are, you can't even work a simple loom without it failing on you," Thalia said snarkily.

Annabeth glanced at Thalia in shock. Her friend had never been so vindictive and spiteful!

"I can't believe you," she whispered, before turning and quickly exiting the room.

Once outside, she realised the sky had darkened considerably.

The scent of fresh rain blew on a gentle breeze, dead leaves twirling, dancing in the gale.

Annabeth threw her arms up in splendour and tilted her head back, relishing in the feel of cold rain water dropping onto her nose, stinging like icy needles. The wind blew harder, more insistently, like it bore bad tidings. Like it carried an unknown taboo. Like it was trying to warn her of coming danger.

Annabeth opened her eyes, an uneasy ball of dread settling in her stomach.

She glanced behind just as a strong arm grabbed her ruthlessly from behind, yanking her back against a solid chest. A sword was pressed against her throat, a hand pressed against her mouth to stifle her cried of protest.

She gasped as the arms tightened about her, unbearably so. The stranger bent down so that cold lips were planted at Annabeth's ear. She shivered- she had never been this close to a human being before.

"Don't scream, please," a soft, low voice whispered. "I am not going to kill you, don't fear. I shall not have your blood on my hands. I just want some answers. Come, we'll go to a deserted place, and there we can talk."

The person's hand was removed from her mouth. Annabeth noticed that the offending hand tasted vaguely like citrus, with a hint of salt.

The princess whirled around and came face to face with none other than Percy Jackson.

**Cliffhanger, much? Next chapter should be up soon. **

**Don't forget to leave a review! ;)**


	16. Warmth

**Sorry for not updating! Nemesis hates me! My power was cut off for five days, my Internet for a WEEK! Torture, I tell you!**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

**Chapter 17:**

**Warmth**

Thalia was starting to get worried. Annabeth had run out of the weaving room, and had not been seen for over an hour.

It was bucketing down with rain, the wind was howling, and branches were speeding through the air like deadly missiles.

Thalia paced inside the weaving hut, hands behind back, crease in brow constantly deepening. The maid Ella watched skittishly, her teeth clenched, eyes nervously scanning the dark village for any signs of the young princess.

Chiron, annoyed with Thalia's continuous movement, rolled forward and put his hand on her arm, gazing up at her compassionately. "All will be fine, my dear," he said kindly. Thalia sank down into a chair involuntarily. "I'm sure the young princess is a resourceful girl— I would not expect her to stray from wherever she has seeked shelter from the storm."

Thalia nodded at his wise words, but it did nothing to quench her anxiety.

No matter what he said, it didn't change the fact that it was still raining torrentially, and the wind was still wailing, and Annabeth was still missing.

* * *

"Where are you taking me!" Annabeth growled, shaking her assaulter's hands off her arm.

Percy's grip was unfaltering, tight and uncomfortable. "Doesn't matter," he snapped.

Annabeth decided not to mention the fact that she had no shoes on, and nobody knew where she was.

Percy half dragged her away from the village, and she stumbled blindly in the darkness, her tender soles aching, unaccustomed to treading on rocks and sticks and other unknown things.

When a particularly sharp stone bit into her heel, she cried out and Percy looked back at her. His face softened a tad when he saw that she had no shoes on. Annabeth gritted her teeth; she should never have made a noise.

"Why didn't you tell me you had no footwear?" he said, frowning at her as he stopped and pulled off his sandals, passing them to her. She glared at him and pushed them away.

"I don't need your pity!"

His nose wrinkled in confusion at her ludicrousness. "It's not pity. I can see that it hurts you to walk bare foot over the gravel. Take my shoes."

Annabeth glared at his hand, until her resolve weakened and she huffed, then took them. Because he was right— she had no idea where they were going, how long it would take to get there, and what other underbrush she would have to trek over to get there.

Percy's hold on her loosened until he was merely clasping her skinny wrist between his index and thumb, guiding her over loose gravel. She stumbled a couple of times. Percy hid his small smirk at her apparent clumsiness.

After many minutes of silence between the two, Annabeth once again asked where he was taking her.

Percy didn't say anything for a minute, but then he lifted his head and said, albeit sheepishly, "I forgot, actually. I was angry, and sometimes I don't think when I'm angry. I'm sorry if I hurt you, My Lady."

Annabeth waved his apology off. "You have no reason to apologise to me. I probably deserve it anyway. And I'd rather not be reminded of my royal heritage."

Percy glanced at her sideways. "You're different to what I thought you would be." He said.

Annabeth knitted her brow, puzzled. "How do you mean?"

"I always imagined you to be— well, _not _like this. Um—"

"You're confusing me, Percy. I don't understand."

"Pretty," Percy spit out, his face red. "There were stories told of an old hag who ate children, who was locked in the tower for her ugliness. But you're pretty. And not like a princess should be. You know— conceited and arrogant. Stuck up. You have a sense of empathy, I think."

He didn't meet her eyes, a blush covering his cheeks at his stuttering. "Oh," she said softly. "I never really had proper training to be a princess. The main rules when I was young were: sit up straight, stay still, be quiet and don't pester Father. I was never allowed to wear pants— it was always dresses, stockings, strange hats, shawls.

"I used to steal overalls from the guards' washrooms and sneak out at night wearing them to climb trees with my friend Clarrisse. We weren't friends at the start- she hated me because I was small and soft spoken. But I pestered and nagged her until she finally relented and taught me how to be a tomboy— an anti- princess." Annabeth sighed and fingered the faded overalls she wore now. "It was certainly more tolerable than having to adorn gold and ridiculously expensive dresses for every day wear. Don't even get me started on the costumes and expenditure displayed on the evening of my father's birthday party."

Percy was silent for a minute, just glancing occasionally over at her, his brow creased. "The monarchy is seen to be weak and greedy in struggling villages like ours. We don't even have a proper name- we are just the king's property. He doesn't care whether people die in bandit raids, whether the Shamans are behaving, whether all the old alliances are still intact." Percy said, once again staring ahead into the distant hills and purple clouds that were rolling across the sky. "People assume the princess is no more than a figure head. A marionette with which money and power pulls its strings."

Annabeth laughed bitterly. "At that time, I wasn't much more than a puppet for my father to manoeuvre. It was disgraceful, how my father treated me. He spoke to me only when he needed something. In fact, we hadn't spoken in many weeks when he summoned me to the Great Hall to address the issue of Luke Castellan."

Then something occurred to Annabeth.

"That reminds me— Beckendorf was in the midst of telling me what happened to Luke. He said that my future husband was killed in a sword duel. Who was the winning opponent?" Annabeth probed Percy.

Percy's face darkened. Or, it could have just been the black clouds that moved over the sun, making the world eerily resemble the Twilight Zone. The monsoon pinpricked exposed flesh like icy pinpricks, and the wind picked up a notch.

"It's not my place to say that," Percy muttered, stopping so suddenly that Annabeth ran into him.

"Sorry," she mumbled, then looked around for the cause of their abrupt sojourn.

They had stopped at a concaved part in a cliff face."It's not much, but it's shelter," Percy muttered, finally releasing her.

Annabeth stepped into the tiny alcove, and shivered, the full effect of the freezing rain and biting wind only now making itself known.

Percy, seeing her quivering, shrugged off his coat, and just as his right arm was slipping out of the coat, Annabeth snapped: "Stop undressing yourself for me! I don't want anything else of yours. And I most certainly don't want to be the cause of you catching your death."

"You're insufferable," Percy grumbled as he passed her to huddle up in the corner, as far from the raging storm as he could get. He held open his coat, and beckoned for Annabeth to come. "Here, if you won't let me take off my coat, at least accept some of my warmth. I dragged you out here— you're now my responsibility."

"I'm nobody's responsibility," Annabeth mumbled, her scowl fading as another set of violent shivers erupted from her shoulders down. Her body, without her mind's permission, walked forward and settled down in Percy's embrace.

Her teeth started chattering, and he wrapped the coat snugly around both of them, his hands resting on her stomach.

_Maybe he isn't so bad_, Annabeth thought as she felt Percy's strong heart beat through his clothes, pounding through her own body. He blew hot breath in her ear and held her tighter as the wind screamed its icy vengeance to the world.

**There we go. How was it?**

**It's stupid, really, but I've been experiencing a severe case of writers' block, even though the entire plan is right in front of me. **

**Please tell me your opinions- though no flamers, thanks. First FanFiction, remember? **

**Thanks to all my fans who have been faithful in their reading so far, to all those who have either reviewed, favourite or followed and generally been good to me even if this story isn't my best work.**

**MashPotatoeSquishBanana :)**


	17. School

**Chapter 17:**

**School**

"School?" Annabeth stared blankly at Chiron. "You want me to go to _school_?"

"That's right." Chiron nodded. "Is there a problem?"

"I-I've never been to _school _before. I always had a private tutor in the past."

"I thought you were leaving your past behind?" Chiron raised an eyebrow. "Learn to live in the present, Annabeth. You may never have attended a public school in the past, but now you reside in our village. You shall respect our customs."

"Y-yes, sir." Annabeth mumbled, staring at the floor so that her adopted father wouldn't see her furious scowl. And so that she wouldn't have to look into his wise brown eyes and see the amusement on his face at her antics.

She turned and ambled out of the room, hair streaming and heart pounding.

_Tomorrow marks the beginning of a new beginning, _she told herself. _I can do this. It's only school. Only a place of education. Only a place where everyone will scorn me, and I'll have no social skills, and I probably am behind in studies— shut up! I can do this. _

* * *

Annabeth took in the sight with wide eyes. There were toddlers, teenagers, and adults milling around, holding stacks of papyrus paper and sticks of charcoal.

The toddlers toddled within a small confined area, while the older people roamed the grounds free.

A particular group of teenagers caught her eye. A boy with black hair, and a lean, muscular frame stood in the midst. Percy.

Annabeth wrapped her wimple tighter around her head, hoping he wouldn't notice her.

Percy was standing with two boys and one girl. His three friends were chatting animatedly, but Percy looked unhappy. Annabeth vaguely wondered why, when she remembered the tragedy that he had gone through on three meagre days earlier. He had lost a great friend in a bandit skirmish. He had a right to be upset.

She yearned to go and comfort him, but she knew she couldn't let him see her. Only in the dying light of two days past had the boy held her in his arms, shielding her from the malicious storm that had kept them trapped in a small concave in a mountain for over three hours. They'd created a bond during that time they'd been in the other's forced company; they'd come to an understanding as they talked freely for the first time since they met. But ever since, they had been avoiding each other like the plague.

She hurried along the grass, head down, stack of paper clutched to her chest, and made to enter the squat building that was her classroom.

However, as her foot crossed the threshold of the classroom, a sudden appearance of someone else's toes tripped her up, and she landed on her hands and knees, papers scattered and dignity crushed. Mocking laughter seared her ears, and she found herself blushing to the roots of her hair.

"Have a nice trip, new boy?" a snarky voice laughed.

Annabeth collected her papers, keeping her head down.

"That wasn't very nice, Adrian," a voice said. Annabeth looked up, and instinctively grasped the extended hand. It pulled her up, and she came face to face with the very person she'd been hoping to avoid.

Percy Jackson.

* * *

Annabeth gasped, and quickly extracted her hand from his, once again blushing.

"Wasn't supposed to be nice," the boy who had tripped Annabeth, Adrian, challenged. "It's tradition to mock the new boy."

Annabeth threw off her hood and glared at Adrian. "Excuse me, but can you not even tell the difference between male and female, Adrian? Or has behaving like a no- good burden to society dimmed your wits?"

Annabeth could almost have smiled at how far Adrian's jaw dropped.

Percy didn't bother to hide his smirk. He leaned in close to Annabeth and whispered in her ear, "Good one."

Annabeth didn't need to be told that twice— the wide, gaping maw (aka: Adrian's mouth) was enough proof of that.

* * *

The gong struck, and all the teenagers hurried into the building. There were twice as many students as there were chairs and tables. The unfortunate people who didn't get a desk sat cross legged on the dry dirt floor.

A woman that students addressed as 'Mrs Dodds' stood at the head of the class with a wooden rod in one hand and a scroll of papyrus in the other.

"Order!" she called in a gravelly voice. "_Order_, class!"

Annabeth sat at a table, and was confused when everyone else stood and began reciting an oath. She quickly stood up as well, but had no clue what to say.

_"We, children of wretchedness,  
Abide by our elders in all faith,  
We give ourselves, holy and truly, to the Goddess._

_Dishonour, disrespect,  
Punished only by death.  
And may our souls revolt in Hell,  
For we are deemed unworthy in Her eyes,  
We, children of sin."_

The class became silent. They sat, staring sullenly at Mrs Dodds. The thin, wiry woman gazed at each student in turn. The teacher's threadlike mouth turned up in a cruel smile. "Very good. You have learnt well, children." Then the woman's eyes landed on Annabeth. "Is this a new mind ready for moulding?" she cackled. "What's your name, boy?"

_Is everyone in this town dull as ditch water? Is it really so hard to distinguish one gender from the other? _

Annabeth wiped the scowl off her face and composed her expression to be neutral and drew the wimple back from her face, and her blond curls tumbled down her back. The students gasped collectively. Adrian, who was sitting three seats across from her, scoffed and turned away.

"Not a boy, it seems. Explain why you are dressed in mens' clothes, girl!"

Annabeth trembled under Mrs Dodds' callous glare. "I was previously unaware that I had to dress in women's clothing for school, Ma'am."

Mrs Dodds' raised her wooden rod. "And your name?"

Annabeth hesitated before whispering, "Annabeth." Every single person's head save Percy's whipped towards her. Whispers went up around the room. _"Annabeth? As in the princess? The one that the Guard saved from the tower?"_

Mrs Dodds paled. "Of course," she seethed. "The Goddess has granted me my wish. Get up here, Princess Annabeth." she hissed.

Annabeth rose, and happened to accidentally meet a pair of sea green eyes. They showed sympathy. Annabeth wondered why.

It wasn't until she was ordered to lift her cotton shirt and lean over a bench that she realised what was going to happen. It was too late. The rod was already in action. "Ow!" Annabeth cried as the wood made connection with the smooth skin of her back. She felt a warm trickle of blood drip down her back. The merciless rod hit her back again. She felt her skin break open, and shuddered, moaning softly from the pain.

"Take it, and learn, girl!" Mrs Dodds leered. "The punishment for women wearing mens' clothes is ten lashes. I'll be kind to you and grant you eight."

On the third lash, Annabeth felt faint. She tried to stand, but staggered. Blood oozed down her back. "Agh…" she groaned, trying to escape the wooden rod. "Stop, please… I'll… not do it… again."

"I don't like your attitude, Princess Annabeth!"

"What- attitude?" Annabeth gasped, falling backwards. She gasped when her shirt stuck to the bloody gashes on her back.

The teacher hauled her up and smacked her face. "The Goddess help us, vermin is upon us!" she howled.

Tears streamed down Annabeth's cheeks. Her back was flaring in pain, and her cheek was smarting.

"Mrs Dodds!" somebody yelled. "Meant with all due respect, but you've gone too far!"

Annabeth fell backwards. She was lightheaded from blood loss and the pain was excruciating. She wasn't aware when hands slipped under her armpits and caught her. Because her senses had already been numbed and her vision had already gone black.

* * *

Once he'd carried the unconscious Princess to the infirmary in the Big House, Percy returned to the classroom. If he'd known that Annabeth would be attending school, he would have warned her about the teacher's personal vendetta against royalty. Nobody knew the reason— Mrs Dodds was as secretive and mysterious as the Goddess herself.

Percy strode through the doorway and stood with his arms crossed. He and his cruel teacher appraised each other from across the room.

"Do you wish to suffer the Princess's fate, Perseus?" Mrs Dodds called.

Percy frowned at the mention of his full name, but he knew that now was not the time to address it. "No, Ma'am, I do not wish that, nor would I wish it on anyone. However, you do realise that you can be dragged before the king for such acts as this? You know as well as anyone in this room that if unaccustomed to it, people can die from a brutal whipping. And she is royalty, nonetheless," he added.

Mrs Dodds stood with her arms crossed, glaring fiercely at her student. "Her father disowned her. She is no more special than any other mindless child in this wretched village."

Percy kept his tone mild, but inside he was burning with rage. "She is still of the blueblood heritage, Mrs Dodds," he said through gritted teeth.

"It's not like any of you actually embrace her father as your King," Mrs Dodds snapped. "She shall still be treated accordingly, no matter her blood line. Besides, had I not been ordered to teach you brats against my will, I would be far from here."

Percy was still trying to figure out how such an unkind woman- a _monster _like her- could have chosen a profession that forced her to work closely with children. She had showed no love for any human being that was under the age of thirty summers. So he asked the question everyone was secretly dying to know. "Why are you here, then, Miss? We all know you hate us. We are all aware of the fact that you grate at the thought of spending a mere hour in our company. Tell me, why are you here?"

For a second, the look on the old woman's face softened, and her eyes became faraway and even gleamed a bit. There was dead silence in the room.

Then Miss Dodds's face hardened once more and she scowled at the class. "Back to work, all of you! Problem will be up on the board." she snapped, swivelling on her heel and not looking back once at Percy.

As the teacher wrote the daily problem on the blackboard in a piece of white chalk, Percy thought deeply. He didn't know what Mrs Dodds was hiding, but what it was must have been huge— the teacher didn't even give him the rod for asking such an intrusive question.

Percy didn't fancy kneeling helplessly in front of a woman such as Mrs Dodds, while the old hag beat his bare back with a stick, but he would do whatever it took to figure out her secret— and make sure she was gone by the next fall. Because is his assumptions were correct, Annabeth was going to acquire a whole new archive of scars and beatings before this teacher had had her share of revenge— whatever her reasons may be.

**I'm sorry about the whipping— but it's an important part of the story. You'll see why within the next couple of chapters. Tell me, have I mentioned that Mr Di Angelo is going to be making an appearance soon?...**

**PLEASE CAN WE GET TO 100 REVIEWS FOR THIS CHAPTER? PRETTY PLEASE WITH A PERCY ON TOP?**

**Thanks for reading, guys! **


	18. on hiatus

**Hi everyone. I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm going to put this story on hiatus until further notice. I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed, favourited and followed this story. I mean, I wouldn't have even gotten this far without all of you!**

**But, the truth? I detest this story. When I put my stories online, I try to imagine what Rick Riordan would think of them, whether or not he'd be proud or ashamed of my portrayal of his characters. **

**I know for sure that if he saw this story, he'd disallow me for ever writing PJO FF again because it's so bad.**

**So, yeah. Maybe one day I'll continue it, but for now, it's just not doing it for me. I'm going to put another story online in a couple of days.**

**If you're interested, follow me and when I post the first chapter, you can check it out. Here's the summary:**

Annabeth Chase is the ultimate bad girl at Goode. She drowns her hidden sorrows with constant drinking and partying. But what's the reason behind it? Percy Jackson is the boy everyone shuns because he has to work at a local nightclub to eat on a daily basis. When Percy and Annabeth form an uncanny relationship, will Percy be able to save Annabeth from herself before it's too late?

**Bye for now. And, again, I'm really sorry.**


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